Make Me
by fr00tx
Summary: When a murder brings back the estranged Club members together, they must face the demons within themselves and some ghosts from their past.
1. Chapter 16

_**Note: this is a continuation of a story on my old account that I am unable to access. **__**Please search for the author 'fruiti-chan' for the first fifteen chapters of this story (written years ago)!**_

_**A quick summary: several years after the death of Tamaki, the Host Club's members have disbanded. Kyouya became married with a child, but his wife was sadly murdered. She had entrusted their daughter to Haruhi's care, who she was in contact with before her death. Haruhi, now a successful lawyer, tries to take care of this small child while working out who had killed Kyouya's wife. And there is, of course, the small matter of both Kyouya and Hikaru trying to win her affections.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

_She hastily left the courtroom, not wanting to make contact with Mrs Harada, and, most of all, Kyouya._

* * *

The coffee left a sharp tang at the back of her tongue. Haruhi stared out the window as her finger traced the edge of the mug, watching red bleed into the morning sky. Yumiko was fast asleep and wouldn't be up for at least another hour.

But Haruhi, the youngest lawyer that had graduated in her class, the student with honours and a scholarship, couldn't bear to close her eyes. It wasn't so much that she had lost a case, a first in her record. The more she thought it over, the more she welcomed the idea that her oldest friend wasn't a murderer. But the fact that there _was_ a murderer on the loose, someone who was willing to spill blood for no good reason, that kept her on edge.

It was enough for a coffee at four in the morning.

She glanced at her phone, eyes twitching, but there were no messages. No calls, no texts, nothing. It seemed as if all the world had deserted her since the courtroom debacle last week. Kyouya's mother-in-law had refused to pay her legal fees, but that was the least of Haruhi's worries. Several suspicious thoughts snaked through her mind when she thought of Mrs Harada, with her ostentation and bravado, as if she was trying to cover up something. Between hiding a murder or a scandal of the wealthy and elite, Haruhi wasn't sure where the line was drawn.

Her phone buzzed. Haruhi snatched it up, hope tinged with shame that it would be Yumiko's father, but it wasn't.

"Hey Dad. What's up?"

"'What's up' is finding my daughter wide awake when everyone else is fast asleep," said Ryoji. He shouted into the phone, a crowd audible from the noisy background.

"And how did you know I was wide awake?" she said as she rubbed her eyes. "None of this 'I'm your father' rubbish either."

Ryoji laughed into the phone, loud and full. "You couldn't have made it more obvious you were waiting for a phone call. I don't think I even heard the first ring finish."

Haruhi sighed. "Where are you now?"

In recent years her father had taken up a jet-setting lifestyle, travelling the world on a modest budget. It was a far-cry from his previous money habits, but it was better than nothing. And it kept him happy, or at least that's what he told Haruhi.

"On my way to you. I've been following the news, don't think I don't know what's been happening. Just had a bit of trouble with getting the damn phone to work."

"Listen, Dad, it's not a good time—"

"I know. That's why I'll be there in a couple of hours."

Haruhi bit her lip as she stared at the now dazzling yellow bleach the sky above grey buildings. She needed to get back out there, needed to breathe the air again.

"No, Dad. I'll come to you."

* * *

Of all the lies he had fed the world, and most importantly Haruhi, the lousiest one was that he still lived at the Ootori residence. Kyouya had not stepped foot in his father's house since he was married. All the talk about maids and servants at his beck and call was just that—talk.

Kyouya pulled a sweater over his shirt before fixing the collar, staring stony-faced at his reflection. He glanced at his watch before taking off his glasses and wiping the lenses, his mind lost in the circular motion between his finger and thumb.

The entire week had been a blur. Not so much that he was found not guilty, not so much that his mother-in-law now hated him with rage stronger than the sun. Not even that his own family would no longer talk to him. But the mere fact that this was a _murder case_, and there would _definitely_ be an investigation. The fact that the mother of his child was at the centre of this was even worse.

How had he not noticed this before? Why did he always want to keep up a demeanour that shut out the rest of the world? Worse still—why did he shut himself out from his true thoughts?

Kyouya laughed into the empty apartment. It was a nice apartment, by other people's standards, but still not a _home_. Just a place to sleep and eat and think about how to survive the next day. Four walls with no heart.

_Stop feeling sorry for yourself_, his thoughts lashed out at him. _You're not worth it. You're nothing._

In the kitchen, he chewed on a dry piece of toast and thought about the case. There was a handful of reasons why someone would want to murder Cho: money, access, or information.

In terms of money, Cho was visibly disowned by her family in public once she married Kyouya.

As for access, she lived alone with Yumiko in a shabby apartment. A pang of guilt twisted his insides when Kyouya realised he had never given her money to support her and the baby.

Information—what could Cho possibly know about anything important? At the heart of it she was a happy-go-lucky soul, a ray of sunshine that kept a dark cloud hidden inside. Aside from her overbearing family, Cho struggled with herself the most.

Once again, guilt snuck its way through his thoughts, paralysing his mind. He knew how much she struggled, how much she locked herself away from everyone else. And yet he pushed her even further into her own murky depths.

_You're nothing_.

"Shut up," he said through gritted teeth. "It wasn't… it wasn't my fault."

_So you keep saying_, said the thoughts, dancing around and around in a circle. _She only ever loved you. She only ever wanted your approval_.

"I'm not the enemy. I didn't kill her." His words echoed into the dark apartment, as gloomy as the storm inside him.

_So you keep saying_

_Are you sure Kyouya?_

_Are you sure you didn't just push her too far and she just slipped_

_Out_

_Of_

_Sight_

"SHUT UP!" he yelled, slamming the plate across the room. It shattered on the opposite wall, pieces cheap ceramic shards clattering on the floor. In the coming hour Kyouya would find himself absent-mindedly cleaning it up. For now, he sat on the kitchen stool with his glasses set on the counter, crying quietly to himself.

* * *

Ryoji Fujioka had aged remarkably well. In his casual day-wear he looked not a day over forty, though his brown hair was now flecked with grey and a few wrinkles had set into his face where he would smile. Laughter lines, Haruhi called them, whenever he moaned about how old he was getting.

They sat in a café on the other side of the city. Yumiko, hair tied up in uneven bunches, played happily in her highchair, singing a sweet song aloud to anyone who would hear. Haruhi drank her third coffee in four hours, running a hand through her hair as she stared at the toddler.

"I don't know what the hell I'm doing," she said, half mumbling. "I can't possibly take care of her much longer than this. I know Cho put me in her will, but I never agreed to any of this, I know there has to be some sort of loophole, some way to get her back to her actual family—"

"Whoa, sweetie, hold on." Ryoji gently held her wrist and brought it back down to the table. "Come on, eat your pie."

"I don't want pie."

"Everyone loves pie."

She knew he was trying to distract her and she almost hated him for it. But nevertheless, like a sickly child wanting her mother, she sullenly nodded and did as she was told.

"First of all, no more coffee for you today. Secondly, I need a place to stay."

Haruhi perked up, as if a beam of light had shone down through the grisly waves of a storm. She shovelled pumpkin pie into her mouth.

"Sure, but what happened to your place?"

He shrugged. "Sold it. Had to fund my Europe tour last year."

"You could have told me!"

Ryoji glanced over at Yumiko and stuck his tongue out at her. She giggled shyly before returning to her song.

"Besides, it looks like you could use some help."

"Dad, I don't need—"

"My independent daughter," he said, his voice suddenly steeling. "My little hotshot attorney is caught in the middle of a murder case. Your home was broken into. Darling, I'm staying with you until I know you're good and safe."

Haruhi could have broke down and sobbed into her father's shoulder. Instead, she smiled weakly across the table and finished the rest of the pie.

"Besides," he said, tickling Yumiko's ear. "I've always wanted a grandchild!"

* * *

Kyouya hated this neighbourhood. Cho hadn't picked a particularly affluent area—perhaps wanting to be as far away from the Harada clan as possible—but as a consequence, it was rough. Litter fluttered in the breeze across the pavement, graffiti scrawled across various surfaces. Some houses were boarded up. Others looked like they hadn't been lived in for a long time.

Cho's apartment was still under the jurisdiction of the police, as made evident by the yellow tape. Kyouya stood outside the front porch, unsure of the next steps, before rapping on the door with his knuckle.

Footsteps echoed inside, louder and louder, until the door swung open. A short police officer with a grey moustache bristled at him.

"Yes?"

"My name is Kyouya Ootori. I'm here to try and help with the investigation."

The officer sighed and stepped outside, closing the door gently. He wore white latex gloves with black marks on the fingers.

"I know who you are. I'm sorry, but I can't allow any civilians on to the crime scene. Besides, I don't think it's a good idea for you to be here."

"Please, I know I can help, just let me—" To hear himself beg was as low as he could get, but at that moment, Kyouya was glad it wasn't his mother-in-law.

The officer held his hand up.

"No, sir. I don't want any trouble otherwise or I'll… I'll…" He seemed to be at a loss for words, looking this way and that for an opening.

"Look, I won't be long, I just want to see the inside," said Kyouya as he turned to reach the door handle. The officer grabbed his shoulder, pulling him to the side, before Kyouya pushed back. The short man stumbled backwards and into the front lawn, falling on his bottom. His cheeks grew bright red.

"How dare you!" he called out as he shot straight back up. "Now you've done it!" He whipped out a pair of cuffs from his belt.

Kyouya chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "You can't be serious—"

But the cuffs were on quicker than lightning.

"Sir, you have the right to remain silent…"

"This is ridiculous!" he called out, his foot stamping on the ground.

"…for obstruction of an ongoing investigation…"

"My wife died here! She was killed, I want to see the house one last time!"

But the officer wasn't having any of it. He made a short call to the station and before long Kyouya was gritting his teeth in the back seat of a police car, wondering how much lower he could get.

* * *

It felt a little like home, to have her father around making noise and dinner, singing songs with Yumiko and regaling Haruhi with tales of his adventures. She wrapped herself in a blanket on the sofa and felt herself slide down, the caffeine wearing off just as night slid over the city.

And finally, an utterly exhausted Haruhi slept a dreamless sleep, the last of her thoughts lingering on the task ahead.


	2. Chapter 17

The Ferris wheel creaked into motion, dark steel glinting in the afternoon light. Kaoru sat back on the bench, watching from afar as Miyo—his fiancé—waved from the top most carriage, sitting with her mother. He hated heights, wouldn't even offer to sit with her even in the name of love, but Miyo understood. She was good like that.

He waved back, a big grin drawn over his face, and sipped on his iced coffee. Children ran in front of him, screaming at the tops of their tiny lungs, some carrying balloons, others dragging torn down bunting across the grassy fields.

"I have to say, I thought English fairs were a bore, but I guess they're the same wherever you go."

His future father-in-law, Ian Fielding, sat down next to him, stretching his short legs.

Miyo had been adopted from a young age to the Fieldings from Japan, but they often visited her home country. It was on one of these visits, two summers ago, that Kaoru thought he fell in love. He wasn't so sure now, as he was with most things, but Miyo was better than most.

"We should visit one," said Kaoru in his polished English. "I was thinking of visiting soon, perhaps in the coming month? Just to get to know the home Miyo grew up in."

"Sure, sure," said Fielding, barely paying attention. "Let's get this holiday out the way first."

"Holiday?" asked Kaoru.

Miyo and her mother stepped off the Ferris wheel from afar, adjusting themselves back on solid ground.

"Yes, this little stint we're having now."

Kaoru held his tongue. It was not wise to argue back, as he'd seen previously. He didn't appreciate that visiting Japan—where Miyo's roots were—was called a 'stint', but Fielding could be like that. Perhaps it was a typical English thing.

_Or maybe he's just a jerk_.

Kaoru shook his head before Miyo approached, jumping up to peck her cheek.

"You think this is bad," said Miyo, grinning at him. "You'd be a complete nightmare on a rollercoaster."

"At least I don't scream when there's a tiny spider in the corner of the room."

She hit his shoulder before they fell into step together, Kaoru holding her close, his hands running through her long dark hair.

"How's your friend? The one you baby-sat for," she asked.

They stood outside an ice cream vendor, just behind a gaggle of young teenagers.

"She's… good. At least, I think she is."

"Maybe you should call her," said Miyo as she pointed to the picture of a triple scoop. "Oh, vanilla, passionfruit, and mango please. But really, Kaoru, having a child isn't an easy thing, especially if she's single. You should check in on her."

Kaoru hadn't told her that Haruhi's apartment was broken into while he babysat Yumiko with Hikaru. He hadn't told her that was why he had the bruises on his face, nor the fact that her father was called in as a witness to Kyouya's trial.

Somehow, he'd managed to hide this all from his fiancé. Once again guilt tapped away at his thoughts. Did he truly love Miyo if he kept secrets?

"Kaoru? You haven't said anything. You want some ice cream?"

He took a small plastic spoon from the vendor and picked at the vanilla scoop.

"You're right. I should call her."

"Oh, and next time I'll come. I'm great with kids," said Miyo with a soft smile.

"Sure!" The words came out before he could stop them. "I've known Haruhi since school. She'd love to meet you."

As Miyo chatted about children and babies, a hand pinched his elbow. Fielding tried to pull Kaoru away from Miyo. He excused himself from her, drawing closer to Fielding in the shade of the ice cream vendor's vehicle.

"I hope you're not getting my Miyo mixed up in all this," he said, mouth a firm line. "I spent a long time protecting her from the worst things this world has to offer. She's been through enough as a child."

"I haven't even mentioned—"

"She wants to meet your friend? The lawyer, in the trial? Whose house was broken into?"

Kaoru folded his arms. "Haruhi's my friend above everything else."

"It doesn't matter. It's a murder trial—you know that. I won't have Miyo involved in any of this."

Kaoru stepped back, soft mud squelching beneath his shoes. "Is there something else you're not telling me?"

For the briefest of moments they held each other's gaze, taut and weighted with words unsaid, before Fielding broke the silence. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. Now come, the girls are waiting for us." He marched back into the sunlight, calling out loudly to his wife.

_Sure,_ thought Kaoru. _Wouldn't want anything to ruin your little 'stint'._

* * *

Haruhi held her forehead as she stared at her reflection in the blank computer screen. Her father was right—the long hair made her look much like her mother. She wondered if Kotoko Fujioka would be proud of her daughter, running her own firm independently. Haruhi rarely ached for her mother—she died when she was so young—but in those few minutes she could have sworn she saw her mother's face reflected back at her.

Her father had begged her not to go to work.

"Surely the office will understand if you take a week off!" he said that morning over breakfast.

"Dad, I can't do that. I _am_ the office," she replied before giving both him and Yumiko a quick peck on the cheek as she left. Something about her dad being at home gave her small comfort, as if a solid and good force had entered her life. Someone she could rely on. "And remember," she had called from the door, "any weird things happen, call the police right away. They know what happened."

It was irresponsible, she knew, to leave Yumiko alone again in the same apartment that was broken into, but Haruhi didn't know where else to go. She couldn't afford to rent out a hotel room indefinitely and her father had already sold his place.

She stared at the computer as it booted up before a quiet knock on the door disrupted her thoughts.

"Uhm, Haruhi? Sorry, I know you only just got back…" her secretary trailed off, still hovering at the door. She glanced over her shoulder and blushed.

Haruhi sighed and massaged her forehead. "Who is it this time?"

"He said he went to school with you…"

"Just send him in."

Her secretary waved the stranger over, the red on her cheeks blooming across her whole face as the man walked past.

Hikaru strode into the office, smiling genuinely at the secretary, before she bustled off with wide eyes. He closed the door and realised Haruhi was staring at him with curiosity.

"Think she has a crush on you, you know."

Hikaru laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I can usually tell."

"How're you feeling?" said Haruhi as she clicked into her desktop screen.

"Fine, fine. No other injuries. Kaoru's fine too. I just wanted to check, you know, see that you were—"

"Fine?" she asked brightly. "We're all doing absolutely, perfectly… fine." She sighed on the last word, almost letting the stress get the better of her. "My dad's staying over."

Hikaru blinked a little. "Oh, really? Wow, I haven't seen him since…"

"Since you all followed me home once and wanted to see how a 'commoner' lived?" she said sharply before raising an eyebrow.

He grinned nervously, taking his turn to blush. "Hey look, that wasn't my idea!"

She smiled before leaning across the desk on her elbow. "Why are you really here?"

"I told you, I wanted to see how you were."

Haruhi shook her head before getting up and adjusting the blinds. Warm sunlight flooded the office, bathing the walls in yellow. As she opened a window, a cool breeze cut through the stuffy atmosphere. "Come on Hikaru. I'm not stupid. I know it's the end of the month."

He laughed out loud, almost like a bark. It was a deal they made that felt like a lifetime ago. He'd clumsily proposed to her in front of Kyouya before she turned him down in the gentlest manner. And then in true, practical, Haruhi-fashion, she gave him a deadline till the end of the month. It was as if she wanted to quell the boy inside him that craved for an answer immediately.

She didn't really love him. She couldn't have.

_But why_, thought Hikaru, _are you acting like such a child? _

They all cared for Haruhi, but only he was being such a sullen boy about it.

Hikaru shook his head. "I'm sorry. For bringing this to you when you're in the middle of all this…" he waved his hand around the office. "Just forget everything I said, it's not important. I'll leave you now."

As his hand touched the door handle she called out to him.

"Wait."

His heart leapt, as if all his dreams and fantasies would really come alive in that one moment.

"There _is_ something you can help me with."

He nodded fervently. "Absolutely, anything. What do you need?"

"A place to stay."

* * *

There were two things Kaoru would do when things got too much. First, he would walk. Just the motion of his legs, the action of _doing something_ felt better than sitting around and stewing in thoughts. And Kaoru had been walking a lot recently.

He took a shortcut through the city, crossing schools and government buildings, banks and big businesses.

Miyo knew about his frequent walks. He'd let her know before he left and she'd squeeze his hand with a smile. He knew what that squeeze meant. _I'm right here, when you need me._ She was good like that.

Fielding's words throbbed in his mind like an ugly, open wound. Kaoru was sure he never liked him, but something else lurked beneath his prim English exterior. He wasn't sure he wanted to uncover it.

He followed no particular path before he found himself standing outside the gates of a compound. He reached for a swipe card in his pocket, inserting it into the reader, before the gates opened slowly.

The second thing Kaoru would do when things got too much was visit his brother.

* * *

"Sorry, it's a bit messy… I don't let anyone else in here really."

Hikaru tripped over a stool into his living room which was much larger than Haruhi's office. There were books and magazines strewn about, with clothes and food containers thrown into the mix.

Haruhi stood by the archway leading into the hall with Yumiko in her arms, a suitcase by her foot.

A shout thundered from the bathroom. "Haruhi! DID YOU SEE THE SIZE OF THIS BATH!"

"Ignore my dad," she muttered. "He's been used to living on a budget recently."

Hikaru shook his head and smiled. "I've been at my parents' house with Kaoru and his in-laws recently, so it's fine."

She placed Yumiko on the floor and gently pinched her nose. Down the hall, Ryoji left the bathroom, audibly amazed at Hikaru's hallway lighting. Yumiko babbled her way towards him and gripped his lower leg.

"Thanks, Hikaru. I mean it." She smiled at him before he blushed. "Bet you didn't think _this_ would happen at the end of the month."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Your place isn't safe anyway. I don't know why you stayed there so long after what… what happened."

Her gaze trailed towards the wide window, staring out at the blue sky framed by trees blooming with cherry blossoms in the communal garden. "Sometimes I wish none of this ever happened," she muttered before snapping herself out of it. "Right, I have to pay you rent, so how much—"

"Don't be daft," said Hikaru. "I'm not taking any money from you."

"We can't stay here for free!"

He pouted for a moment. "Maybe you can be in debt to me…"

"Ha ha, very funny," she said and walked over to him, whacking him on the arm. "I'm serious."

"So am I," he said, gently holding her hand before she could pull away. "Stay here as long as you want."

They stood like that for a moment too long. Haruhi was sure that everything else in the world would fall away.

The front door clicked open.

"Hikaru, let's order out again, I'm starving!"

When Kaoru walked into the living room, Haruhi was the first to snatch her hand away.

* * *

The four of them sat on the squashy sofas, a box of ramen for each. Yumiko had fallen asleep on the end of the sofa, her little feet perched on Haruhi's lap.

"You know, you're really looking the part of a mother," said Kaoru. "Always frantic."

"I dunno, could be the murder trial hanging over my shoulder. But sure, the kid too."

Kaoru blushed before Haruhi laughed, trying to ease the tension.

"So Kaoru, Haruhi tells me you're getting married!" said Ryoji. "What, my girl wasn't good enough for you?"

"Dad…"

This time Kaoru laughed, placing his box down on the coffee table. "You're all invited, of course. Just when we set the date."

"And when will that be?" asked Haruhi.

He licked his lips and reached for a can of soda. "Not sure yet."

"Oh dear… trouble brewing in paradise?" said Ryoji.

"Dad!"

Kaoru held his hands up. "No no, just a bit difficult what with her family from England and us being over here."

"Wasn't Miyo's dad in the trial?" said Hikaru. It was the first time he spoke up since they started eating, quietly observing everyone. Kaoru was sure something had happened before he walked in, but he could grill his brother on that later. He didn't want his heart to get hurt, again.

Haruhi bolted upright. "Ian Fielding? The witness?"

Kaoru hesitated over his words, hearing the threat throb in his mind again. "Yes."

"I _thought_ he was rather conveniently placed in the trial, though I had no idea he was your…"

"Ass-in-law," said Kaoru. When no one laughed, he cleared his throat.

"Wow, that bad?" said Ryoji.

Kaoru shrugged and grinned. "Can't have it all, can you?"

But Haruhi narrowed her eyes.

"What was he really doing, that morning, in Cho's neighbourhood? It's nowhere near you guys."

Kaoru licked his lips once again, feeling himself drawn between lines of loyalty. Before he could speak, Yumiko awoke in a cry, searching for the warm arms of a mother. Haruhi lifted her and paced across the hallway, just out of sight of the others.

"So what's your lovely Miyo like?" said Ryoji, wiping his fingers on a napkin.

"Great, she's just great. A really understanding person, it's hard to find someone like that," he said absently.

"Sounds like she'll be with you through thick and thin," said Ryoji.

Kaoru nodded, tilting his head towards the window. "Yeah. She's good like that."


	3. Chapter 18

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* * *

A patch of ceiling tile was left unpainted. Kyouya stared at the grey patch for an eternity before he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. How much longer could they keep him?

He knew he wasn't in custody, as the arresting officer—Enokido—had taken his cuffs off. They kept him in a locked room with no explanation. Just a strained promise that he was going to "speak to his superior".

He'd been stupid not to expect that Cho's place would still be under wraps with the police, and that bothered him. _He'd been stupid_. It was as if all his loose thoughts slid through his mind before disappearing into nothing. He couldn't hold on to any of it.

It must be stress. It had to be.

He was losing it, but he couldn't let anyone else know.

The door handle rattled. Kyouya straightened up and put his glasses back on, arms crossed.

"Right, Mr Ootori—"

"How much longer am I expected to be kept waiting? I can't say I'm all too surprised with the state of things here," cut in Kyouya. "As I said before, I can't help the investigation if I'm being treated as a suspect myself. And we'd already cleared that up, haven't we Officer?"

Enokido held his breath, grey moustache bristling once more. He swung the door open wider and stepped out of the way, allowing another uniformed man to enter the room.

"I meant to say, Mr Ootori, that my boss would like to speak to you." He closed the door and stood with arms behind his back, staring straight ahead. "Captain."

The short police Captain took off his hat and placed it on the table before pulling up a chair.

"This isn't exactly how I thought we'd see each other again."

Kyouya narrowed his eyes, shifting his body to face the Captain. "I don't see what—"

A glint of light gleamed across the name badge. _Haninozuka_.

Kyouya smirked. "But of course, how could I forget? I'd heard of your promotion a year ago. Youngest Captain in decades." His tone barely lifted. This wasn't a reunion. "Congratulations."

Captain Haninozuka turned to his junior officer. "You can leave us for now."

"But sir—"

"_Now._"

Enokido nodded and left swiftly, a grumble barely audible underneath his breath.

Kyouya's eyes floated to the unpainted ceiling patch.

Hani clasped his hands on the table. His soft blonde hair was tied in a small ponytail, a little stubble on his usually baby-smooth chin. He had been the oxymoron of the Host Club, the senior with childish charms, the sunniest of dispositions alongside Tamaki. All that had faded into a tired man.

"What are you doing here, Kyouya?"

"What, no warmer conversation? I haven't even been offered a coffee yet."

Hani's posture was straight, his expression impassive. If Kyouya didn't know any better, he'd think his elusive cousin, Mori, was hidden behind the sombre eyes.

"You were found outside your wife's apartment, demanding to be let in. You assaulted one of my officers. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were hiding something."

"Aren't we all?" said Kyouya. "Like you, Captain. What happened to the sweet little boy from Ouran?"

Hani's jaw tensed for a moment before a small smile melted it away.

"I see, if anything, you've turned into a far more sour version of who you used to be," said the Captain.

"If, by sour, you mean visibly distraught given that my _wife was murdered_ and neither you nor your incompetent organisation can figure out _who_ did this, then yes, _Captain_. I am sour." Kyouya straightened his shirt and got up to leave. "Good day, Captain."

He reached the door before realising Hani had not stopped him. Was he letting him go?

_What's wrong with you? Just leave._

_But shouldn't he be questioning me…_

_Your innocence was already proven at the trial._

His hand gripped the door handle, clammy and shaking. Heat rose from within, spreading down his back in a cold sweat.

A hand pressed gently on his shoulder before Kyouya flinched. Hani patted his shoulder, still a few inches shorter, and prised his old friend's hand away from the door.

"Let's go get that coffee then, shall we?"

* * *

They had walked around the station before trailing off into narrower roads in the city. Charming boutique shops lined the streets and people went about their business on a quiet yet warm afternoon.

"It was pretty much first year of engineering when I knew it wasn't for me," said Hani. He took a sip from his blue coffee cup stamped with the police insignia. Kyouya had discarded his long ago. "Then again, I still didn't know what to do."

"But the police? A little bit of a departure from your previous… façade."

Hani smiled, genuine and warm. "Yes, it was a façade wasn't it? I believe we were all putting on airs like that." Hani didn't mention having seen his face, pale and sweaty, back at the station. And Kyouya, for all his bitterness, was grateful.

"At first I didn't like it either, but I don't think anyone does when they're in the junior ranks of any profession. But I told myself I'd stick to it, at least for a year, and then that year turned into two. Then three. And now—well, here we are." They came across a park with a row of blooming, fresh roses. Hani sat on the bench with a relief and stretched his short legs on the gravel. "I've seen some pretty grim stuff, Kyouya. Believe me when I say it's nice to see a friend—though I have been following your story."

Kyouya sat next to him and folded his arms with his shoulders hunched, though it wasn't cold. In fact, the heat of the afternoon sun seemed to burn inside him—his shirt was stuck to his back in a slick layer of sweat.

He felt like caving in on himself, as he had been for years, and it was beginning to crack his exterior. Somehow, with Hani, he didn't seem to stop himself.

"It just happened so fast…" he muttered, staring at a pigeon. It pecked on a half-chewed piece of chocolate on the ground.

"I am sorry," said Hani. "Truly."

Perhaps it was in seeing an old friend, so far removed from the pain and hurt of recent events, which made Kyouya's heart splinter.

He turned towards Hani. "I pushed her away so far that she fell over the edge and never… never returned." His voice cracked on the last words, their conversation deepening into a heavy silence. Hani said nothing. Once again, Kyouya was grateful.

The world shifted out of balance, ever so slightly, before pulling back again. He took a deep breath and rose from the bench.

"I should go. I need to…" Thoughts wavered again, lost for words. "See my daughter."

Hani got up and tossed his cup in the trash receptacle. "Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

Kyouya shook his head. "It'll have to wait, I need to—"

"You don't understand. We have reason to believe your life may be in danger."

* * *

Back in the Captain's office, Kyouya fidgeted in his seat. He could barely keep his mind focussed on one thing, chattering through thought after thought after thought, not stopping for breath, but he shouldn't be here, in this station, he needed to go find, find someone, to set things straight—

"Another drink?" said Hani, setting two cups of coffee on his desk. Kyouya stared at the blue cups with black insignia, the patterns swirling in and out of focus.

"Rewind," said Kyouya, though his mouth was dry. "Go back a few more steps. Someone is trying to kill me?"

"Kill, perhaps, or injure at the very least." Hani leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head.

"Sure, sure. At the very least. How do you know?"

"It was the break in at Haruhi's apartment that struck me the most—"

"Haruhi? How did you know about that? Did she say something? Are you in contact with her? What did she say?" The heat crept up his neck and prickled beneath his skin.

Hani's brow wrinkled. "Are you okay?" he asked slowly. In those curious brown eyes, Kyouya thought he was back at Ouran, his childish senpai concerned about his wellbeing.

"Yes, of course, absolutely, now tell me about Haruhi, what did she tell you, when did you speak to her—hey, I was about to drink that!"

Hani had leant forward and grabbed the coffee cup out of his hands.

"You don't look well," said Hani as he came round the desk. He pulled down Kyouya's lower eyelid, cool fingers on sweaty skin. "We need to take you to a hospital."

"Suddenly you're a doctor now?" Kyouya jerked away from him, slapping his hand away.

"No, but I know what it looks like when someone's been drugged."

Kyouya rose from his chair and shook his head. "I'm fine."

But he knew he wasn't.

He hadn't been all day, and it took one more step towards the door before he plummeted down to the floor for him to realise. Before he blacked out Kyouya saw Hani kneeling on the floor beside him, a keychain dangling on his waist, the image of Usa-chan the bunny smiling scathingly at him.

* * *

_The black was overwhelming. Nothing could penetrate the dark walls, the absolute void. Shapeless shadows. He sat at the bottom of the well, all alone. And the pressure suffocated him, making sure he stayed down._

_Though familiar, it hurt every time it returned. And he didn't know why. The weight of an invisible chaos kept him at the bottom of the well. He had stayed in that well for years uncountable. _

_But there, in the depths of his misery, were some slivers of light. A whispering of hope. A blonde boy sat with him, pearly-white smiles and rosy cheeks, offering his own heart to share. Somehow, the well wasn't as lonely. _

_Then the boy disappeared, dissolving into the black much too soon. And so he sat once again, all by himself, counting the uncountable. _

_Until a little girl came along with hair as dark as his, grabbing his hand with her own pudgy fingers. She pulled him to get up, to get out of the well, but he couldn't. The pressure was too much. So she climbed on top of his shoulders, messing his hair, taking his glasses, and sang a lullaby to herself._

_And there, in the depths of his misery, he knew he wasn't alone._

* * *

When Kyouya's eyes fluttered open, all he saw was white. It took a few moments for the hospital room to vaguely materialise around him before he reached instinctively for his glasses. His entire body ached to move. The room started to spin.

"Looking for these?" said a gruff voice. A shadow fell upon Kyouya, a hand outstretched close to his face with his spectacles.

"I won't point out the irony of those words." Once he put them on he saw Enokido stand over his bedside, not a shred of concern on his square face. "How long have I been out?"

"Couple days." The officer took a seat next to him, pulling his phone out. "You had a few visitors too."

Kyouya's weak limbs tensed. "Who?"

"Some lawyer and her kid."

Before he had time to think—and thinking was still painful—the door opened. Captain Haninozuka walked in, nodding at Enokido, who frowned.

"With all due respect, _sir_, I've been here since morning—"

"I will debrief you when I've finished speaking with Mr Ootori," said the short Captain.

The officer left, grumbling once more under his breath.

Kyouya smirked. "I think he has issues with taking orders from someone so young."

Hani shrugged. He made his way to the bedside and took off his hat. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Kyouya paused as he tried to sit up. Whatever drug he had been poisoned with had stolen all the strength from his muscles. "What was I drugged with?"

"They're still isolating the compound, but I'd place a bet on narcotics. Do you know anyone who could do this to you?" Hani scratched his chin, wide eyes looking down at his friend.

Several people came to mind, related to business, but he wouldn't think anyone could go so far as to poison the Ootori heir. It didn't seem to fit. None of this did.

"Don't worry if you can't, you're still in recovery."

"But you knew someone was trying to kill me, didn't you?" Kyouya could feel the cold sweats come again, though this time he knew it wasn't drug-induced.

Hani nodded. "When Haruhi's apartment was broken into, I was baffled. Small-time crooks wouldn't break into a fifth floor apartment with such force and take nothing. It was to induce fear, but for what? She only practices in family law. Nothing high profile."

"Except…" His stomach lurched. _Him_.

"Her only association with you is through your daughter. And from our preliminary investigation into the attack on your wife, that may have been another fear-inducing attack gone wrong.

"It's possible someone is trying to track you, and has missed the mark a few times, leaving collateral damage. Where were you the morning before you were arrested?"

His temples throbbed. This was getting real. The things you would read on the news or watch in movies—it was happening now. _Someone was trying to kill Kyouya Ootori._

"At my place. I had breakfast, cleaned up a little, not much. Then went straight to Cho's."

Hani put his hat back on, adjusting it a little in the mirror above the sink next to the bed. "We'll have to do a clean sweep of the Ootori residence then—"

"No no," said Kyouya. "I've had my own place for a while. I've been in this particular address for a month, since the trial proceedings began."

The Captain's eyes narrowed. "And that's been your sole residence?"

Kyouya shrugged. "I guess."

"You haven't stayed anywhere else?"

"Not really, except—" Kyouya's cheeks grew hot.

"Except?"

"Well, as Haruhi was taking care of my daughter, I took it upon myself to keep an eye on her."

Hani grinned, a faded memory of his innocent smiles. "Of course, of course."

"I don't have to justify myself to you," said Kyouya, pulling the covers over his chin.

"I'm not judging," said Hani. "She was here yesterday, with your daughter. I have to say, it's a little surreal to have the Ouran gang mixed up in all this."

"Surreal for us all." Suddenly, the hospital no longer felt safe for Kyouya. Nowhere did. "But this means someone's tracking my movements?"

"We'll have to find you temporary accommodation." Hani stood by the door, nodding at Kyouya. "Just rest for now. We'll keep an officer stationed with you at all times."

"Just make sure it's not that Enokido," called out Kyouya hoarsely as the door shut. "I'd bet he's the killer at any rate."


	4. Chapter 19

Although they bought a slice of chocolate cake to share, Yumiko had managed to shove the entire thing into her small mouth. Haruhi stuck her tongue out at she wiped at Yumiko's round face, despite the little one's protests. Once they'd finished Haruhi waggled her fingers and Yumiko gladly held one of them as they trotted off together, leaving the hospital café.

Haruhi had been in contact with Captain Haninozuko—she couldn't bring herself to call him Hani-senpai—a couple of times in the past few years, passing by in court houses or via email, but nothing could have prepared herself to see him standing by the hospital bed of a sleeping Kyouya.

"She's not mine," Haruhi had said as soon as she saw the Captain. The small child in the stuffy ward gripped her leg, confusion on her delicate features at all the beeping machines and sick people. "I'm just looking after her for Kyouya."

Hani had nodded, a tired smile barely stretching across his face. "It's okay, Haruhi. You don't need to explain yourself to me."

Haruhi nodded and patted Yumiko's soft hair, pointing at Hani. "This is a friend Yumi. Say hello!" The little girl stayed behind Haruhi's leg, staring at anything except Hani. "She's usually friendlier than this."

"Don't worry, I'm sure she just wants to see her father."

The two of them exchanged little less than these pleasantries, keeping within the guise of their professions. If she hadn't registered it before, Haruhi found it oddly jarring now. All Hani told her was that Kyouya had fallen ill while in the police station, but offered nothing more than that.

Yumiko's father slept under the covers, face unshaven and dark circles beneath his closed, tense eyelids. Haruhi held Yumiko in her arms, leaning her down to let her pat Kyouya's head, but instead the little girl recoiled. She gripped Haruhi's neck, whining to get away.

"But that's your dad!" said Haruhi, on the edge of thrusting the child at Kyouya to wake him up.

"Haruhi," said Hani from the doorway. "Maybe it's just a little too much for her."

She stepped back as her mouth wobbled, wanting to tell Hani that it was too much for _her_, Haruhi. The unstoppable student, now desperately running from her next breakdown.

"Hey lady, watch it!"

Haruhi blinked and gripped Yumiko's hand with such force, to stop both of them from walking out on to oncoming traffic. Yumiko began to whine before Haruhi knelt down and patted her head, stroking her chin.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "We're going home now. And then you can play all you want, okay?" Yumiko nodded, wiping her dry chubby cheek in an attempt for the dramatic. Haruhi nearly laughed and hoped her father's own habits hadn't rubbed off on the little girl.

Across the street, a figure caught her eye. A short, white man with a baseball cap on his head walked alongside a slender, middle-aged woman, the two barely speaking to each other. Their heads were turned in opposite directions as they strolled together along the flow of the crowd.

That man… where was he from? He looked so familiar, was he a client?

"Green!" yelled Yumiko. "Green, green!" She pointed at the pedestrian crossing, where dozens of others had begun to walk. Wasting no time, Haruhi hauled Yumiko into her arms and skipped across the street.

That man was Ian Fielding, the witness in Kyouya's trial. The _convenient_ witness.

Fielding walked ahead with the woman, presumably his wife, until they reached a black car parked on the side of a road. Haruhi stopped sharply on the street corner, bumping into several passersby, and hid behind the brick pillar in front of an electronics store. She peered round, briefly glimpsing the car roll into traffic.

She ran out into the side of the street, waving her free hand in the air for the nearest yellow taxi. When it barely stopped for her, she banged her palm into the bonnet.

"Are you crazy?" yelled the driver from his rolled down window. "You could have damaged my car!"

She flung the door open and placed Yumiko inside, sliding herself in before slamming the door shut.

"You didn't stop!"

The driver grumbled, noticing the child, and began the journey. "I'm nearly off the clock."

"Just follow that black car ahead of you."

"What is this, a police car chase?"

Haruhi twisted the words over in her mind, ignoring the prodding thought that she'd completely lost it.

* * *

They pulled up at the iron gates of a large residence, gravel crunching beneath the tyres of the taxi. Haruhi peered through the gates at the house. It wasn't as large as, say, the Ootori residence, but it was spacious in its own right. A stone peacock stood at the centre of the luscious lawn, flowers blooming in the warm breeze. The peacock sat on top of a fountain that sprayed water every now and then, water trickling down from several layers of clean stone.

The car they had followed was already inside. Haruhi had no idea how to get in.

"This is as far as I go," said the driver. "That'll be ¥950."

"What? We barely went past the city limits!"

He tapped the meter with a rough hand, dirt beneath the nails. "¥970…"

"Fine," said Haruhi, thrusting the cash towards him. "Let's go Yumi."

A soft snore came from the corner of the cab. Haruhi groaned at the sleeping child, knowing it'd only make it more difficult, but she had no choice.

As the taxi drove out of sight, Haruhi lumbered towards the gates with Yumiko draped limply across her shoulder. Had she gained weight in just a couple of months?

She inspected the camera at the top of the gate. A sensor flashed above the keypad embedded in the stone pillar before a voice barked into the intercom.

"Yes? What do you want, Miss?"

_Not short of politeness today_, thought Haruhi.

"Dropped off by a taxi? I don't believe we are expecting any… visitors."

She knew the owner of the elderly, clipped voice wanted to say 'commoners'. She almost wanted to bait it out of them. Besides, where was she? It wasn't too far from where she was staying, and if Fielding had been driven through the gates with his wife…

"My name is Haruhi Fujioka. I'm a friend of Kaoru's."

The voice stuttered for a moment. "Master Hitachiin? He didn't say anything about anyone…"

"No, he probably didn't. I just wanted to drop by. That _is_ okay, isn't it?"

_What was with the heightened security?_

There was a rustling of paper in the intermittent silence. Haruhi's shoulder began to ache but she didn't want to move Yumiko to the other for risk of waking a sleeping toddler. She stepped towards the intercom. "I'm sorry, is there a problem?"

"I will have to check with Sir—"

She sighed, long and dramatic, a little like her father before he wanted something from her. "If you don't let me in, I guess I'll have to tell the twins just how _unhelpful_ you've been, and I'm sure they'll find a way to repay you in kind."

The intercom clicked off, the gates buzzing open.

Haruhi smiled. The staff member behind the voice probably grew up with the antics of the twins, knowing full well what would happen if they got on their wrong side.

The front lawn was like a beautifully sculpted garden as colour burst from every crevice. Sunny daffodils, pearlescent plum blossoms, red spider lillies, and an array of tulips spread across the vast garden. Suddenly, Haruhi wanted to lay down on the soft grass, taking all the time in the world.

There was, however, no one else standing outside.

She crept up to the large, oak front door before a noise caught her attention. Around the corner, a ground-floor window hung open and a loud, sharp voice resonated from within. Haruhi slid beneath the window, kneeling slightly, her entire posture becoming ridiculously difficult with Yumiko's dead weight.

"—but you can't leave, there's so much to do—"

"—understand, my business won't run itself, your mother and I must return—"

"—stay for another week, or two? For Miyo and myself, just think—"

With the overwhelming feeling she'd overstepped the mark, Haruhi precariously wobbled Yumiko to her right shoulder, the left completely numb, and lifted herself up from the crouched position before banging her head on the opened window.

Yumiko thudded softly on the grass before bawling herself awake. Despite the throb at the back of her head Haruhi grabbed the toddler and tried to soothe her back to sleep, wishing she had never stepped foot through the gates—

"Ahem."

She turned to see Kaoru hanging over the open window, his mouth slightly agape. A few other figures stood behind him.

"Sur…priiiise?" said Haruhi, grinning through the pain.

* * *

Haruhi fiddled with the buttons on her cream jumper as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, her phone gripped tightly between her ear and shoulder.

"…I said no, but they're insisting on dinner. What do you mean 'what am I wearing'?"

"You know what these people are like! I hope it's not that awful orange dress."

She frowned at her reflection. "Dad, I wore that one time! I'm going now, bye."

"Bring me back some foooood—"

She gingerly patted the top of her head before concluding there definitely wasn't a bruise there. Taking one last look at the black-and-white bathroom the size of her office, Haruhi took a deep breath and made her way to the living room.

"Come, Haruhi is it? Sit!" Miyo tapped the seat next to her on the leather chaise longue, her smile wide and bright. Her dark hair was scooped up in a ponytail, tendrils framing her round face. "This is Yumiko, right? I'm afraid Kaoru's been a little short on details, but I know you went to school together?" Her accent was fluent, conversation warm like the day outside, but she could easily switch to English in an instant for the benefit of her adopted parents.

A tea set was laid out on the table. Miyo poured a cup for Haruhi, gesturing for her to take it, before going back to tickling Yumiko who sat beside her. Mr Fielding sat apart on the other side of the room and regarded Haruhi with sharp eyes. Kaoru and Mrs Fielding had excused themselves to tell the cook they needed two more places set for the evening.

"Yes, we were at Ouran together a while ago now, seems like such a long time." She sipped politely at the tea, hyperaware of her entrance only half an hour ago. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have barged in like this—"

"Quite," said Mr Fielding. Without his baseball cap, a bald patch was exposed with thin grey sideburns. His pale face seemed to have been sunburnt with patches of red on the cheeks and forehead.

"Dad," cut in Miyo sharply. Haruhi knew she'd stumbled in between a family argument, but wasn't sure if this was a regular occurrence. "It's fine. Any friend of Kaoru's is welcome."

"Tell me, Miyo, does Kaoru keep his friends so unwelcome they find themselves hiding beneath window ledges?"

A knife could have scraped through the icy air. Haruhi set down the cup and pulled Yumiko into her lap, bouncing her gently to quieten down her protests.

"I think we'll be leaving," she said quietly.

"No, you're staying, because this isn't our house. It's Kaoru's, right Dad?"

"Miyo you're overreacting," he said, folding his arms and looking away. "For once, not everything is about you."

Tears glistened in Miyo's dark eyes, her lips turning down.

"You know what, just go back home. We can do this wedding without you." Her words were full of quiet anger, the dangerous kind. Haruhi had seen this plenty of times when dealing with clients, after all, that's what family law often led people to feel like. Bitter and resentful. Plenty of hurt.

"Haruhi?" Hikaru peered around the corner of the archway. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey!" she said a little too loudly, bouncing straight up. She marched over to him with Yumiko in tow before stopping short a couple of inches apart. Was it too awkward to hug?

Hikaru smiled, if a little confused, and tickled Yumiko underneath her chin. The toddler babbled in laughter and held her arms out for him to take her.

"Can I speak to you?" she said, loudly again, ushering them out into the hallway. When they were alone, she pressed her back against the wall, her jaw dropping. "I think I might have come across something I shouldn't have."

"What?" said Hikaru as he tried to redirect Yumiko's hands away from his tiny earring. "Oh wait, you've met Ian. I try to stay out the way… far far away."

Haruhi massaged her forehead. "I followed him here, you know. It's all my fault, but I know something's up, I need to find out what."

"Well, Kaoru's already on thin ice as it is, so maybe don't poke the beast."

"Kaoru is what now?"

The two of them spun around to see Kaoru with his arms folded, frowning at them.

"I wasn't, I mean, just—"

"Hikaru, shut up. Haruhi, what the hell are you doing here?" He spoke so lowly but hissed, as if scared to be caught by a teacher. In fact, it felt like the three of them were back at school, whispering in the hallways about how to cover up the latest Host Club scandal.

Haruhi stared at the twins for a moment, noting their different styles, and wondered when they had abandoned the double-act so adored by dozens of Ouran girls.

"There's something up with Miyo's dad," she said. "I don't believe what he said in the trial. He can't have just been passing by Cho's house at the time of the murder—that's too big a coincidence."

Kaoru groaned, running a hand through his short hair as if he were about to pull it out. "Look, I'm already struggling to keep Miyo happy with everything, this really isn't the time—"

"But he's going back to England, isn't he? So I need to find out as soon as possible. Something happened that day which isn't adding up, and it all comes down to whoever killed Yumi's mother."

The three of them looked at the babbling little girl with worry as guilt ebbed at the pit of Haruhi's stomach.

* * *

Dinner was a quiet affair. The scrapes of knives and forks echoed into the large dining room. Even Yumiko, flanked by Haruhi and Hikaru, played quietly with her food.

Miyo's mother, who had been absent to the argument, sat beside Haruhi. A delicate woman with short, brown hair, she seemed eager to make friends with the stranger in the room. "Please, take more food! Plenty for everyone."

Haruhi politely declined.

"So, a lawyer then, right? That must keep you busy!"

Haruhi stopped, the fork halfway to her open mouth. She glanced at Kaoru who shook his head.

So Mrs Fielding hadn't been at the trial and was in the dark as much as Miyo.

She smiled. "Yes, it does, but it has its own rewards." In that moment, Haruhi struggled to think of one good aspect of her job.

"I see," said Mrs Fielding, mauve lipstick spread across thin lips. "And a mother too, that's quite something."

"Oh no," cut in Haruhi a little too quickly. "Yumiko isn't my child. I'm looking after her for a friend."

"Oh dear, not for long I hope?" said Mrs Fielding.

It was a thought that plagued her constantly. How long would Yumiko be in her care? She'd grown to love her, there was no denying that, but she wasn't _hers_. When would Kyouya be in the all clear, so he could have his family back? Did he even want her back?

Haruhi chewed for a moment before smiling. "No, they're just a little unwell at the moment. Should be back on their feet in no time." She eyed Miyo's father across the table. "You look awfully familiar, Mr Fielding. Have I seen you before somewhere?"

She heard Kaoru audibly moan before looking away. Hikaru rubbed his face.

Fielding glared at her, stiff upper lip ready to split.

"Oh, that's right! You're CEO of Accenture Electronics, right? Leading brand right after the big few in the UK?"

Hikaru peered through his fingers.

She seemed to have disarmed the worst. Fielding wiped his mouth with a napkin and cleared his throat.

"That's right. You seem to have done your research," he said curtly.

"I make it my business to," she retorted. "Are you enjoying your time in Japan?"

He gripped his fork, clearly upset by this interrogation. "It is what it is."

"Any interesting events happen on your trip?"

He eyed her with disgust, clear on his pale face, knowing exactly what she was picking away at.

"Not as interesting as finding a suspicious character outside my window."

"Dad, we _just _discussed this!" Miyo's knife and fork clattered on the empty plate. Her mother quietly gasped.

"Because I really want to know," said Fielding, ignoring his daughter, "what you were doing there, eavesdropping on my family and I? And then asking me all these prying questions?" He pointed the fork in her direction.

Haruhi had been in worse situations. "I was coming to see a friend," she said coolly.

"Whom you haven't spoken to in years? Oh yes, I make it my business to do my research too!" said Fielding when Haruhi's calm had faltered. "What do you really want? Is it money?"

"That's enough." A stony expression settled across Hikaru's face as he stood up. "You can't speak to her like that."

Fielding chuckled. "Finally, Tweedledum decides to speak."

It was a split second movement as Haruhi shot up before Kaoru could speak. She glanced at him, the fury in his eyes when his brother was insulted, and spoke louder than everyone else.

"We're engaged." The silence stalled everyone's breath. "Hikaru and I. That's why I came, to announce that. We're getting married!"

She looked back at Hikaru, his cheeks red, and grinned stupidly with a whisper barely audible beneath her breath.

"_Sur…priiiise."_

* * *

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	5. Chapter 20

The car ride home was silent, except for the incessant stream of thoughts churning through Haruhi's head that she _could not possibly have thought of a worse idea_. Hikaru insisted on taking her home after dinner. The two looked out of opposite windows, wishing the driver would speed up, or that Yumiko—sat between them again—would wake up from her car-induced slumber and distract them.

"Sorry sir," said the driver. "Looks like we've hit traffic."

Hikaru sighed and turned his window down to survey the rows of cars, some beeping, most giving noxious fumes into the air. Once he pulled it back up, he turned to Haruhi, almost still at a loss for words.

"Did you… I mean, really?" He wasn't offended, nor upset or angry. Just confused.

"I'm sorry," said Haruhi. "I wasn't really thinking. I just wanted everyone to stop arguing."

"You know what would have stopped them arguing? If you never showed up in the first place."

He was right, of course he was, but the comment still hurt. She turned back to look out her window, watching a sparrow picking at some litter on the ground.

"No, now I'm sorry." Hikaru bent over and put his face in his hands, emitting a slow moan. "This is so messed up already."

"All I need to do is find out what Fielding really knows and then—"

Hikaru shot up, glaring at her. "And then what? Ruin Kaoru's family? Break up with me?"

"I… break up?" She blinked. "It's not a real engagement, you know that. I had to say something. And this way, I can keep close to Fielding without bringing too much suspicion."

The car engine churned to life once more, heaving them at a snail's pace towards the inner city.

"You really want me to go along with this, just while you play 'detective'?" His brown eyes, usually full of genuine affection, had turned cold. They sat in silence once more, reluctantly allowing it to envelope them until Yumiko awoke, softly nudging Haruhi's arm. Haruhi placed a hand on her head, staring straight ahead.

The driver took a detour, bypassing congested main roads and trundling through narrow side streets before arriving outside the gates of Hikaru's apartment.

"I never wanted any of this to happen," Haruhi said quietly. "I just wanted to do what my mother did, become a good lawyer and be a decent person." She laid a kiss on top of Yumiko's sleepy head. "I remember her telling me, this small, scrawny child, about love. That when someone loves you they might understand bits of you—probably never the whole of you—but they'll be kind to you even when you can't to yourself."

The car stopped, engine switched off. The driver walked around to Haruhi's side and opened the door, a draft of cool evening air chilling her skin.

She gathered Yumiko into her arms and looked at Hikaru once more.

"I know Yumiko had a mother who would have told her the same things—if only she'd lived that long." She stepped out the car and slung her bag around her shoulders before peeking in once more. "You can tell everyone we 'broke up'. I just really need to get to the bottom of this."

The door shut as she walked away with Yumiko holding on to her neck, who gave Hikaru a little wave with her pudgy hand.

* * *

Kyouya's head throbbed against the stiff pillow. He turned over, trying to find a position that wouldn't leave him with a brutal neck ache, before reaching for his phone again. It had been two days since he was discharged from hospital and allowed to stay in the safe house, forty eight hours of dipping in and out of consciousness. He was assured that the drugs had left his system, but that the side effects would remain for a little while.

Through bleary eyes, he checked his messages. Only one from Hani, telling him to stay put until he was in contact.

This was ridiculous. Why would somebody be out to sabotage, or even kill, Kyouya? He rubbed his bleary eyes and ran through a hazy list of Ootori business enemies, but his mind wouldn't patch two and two together. He felt himself come undone once more. Burying himself deeper into the covers, he had a sudden urge to call out to someone, anyone, who could stay by his side and tell him everything would be alright. Someone to give him a hug.

_So childish_, he told himself. And yet the feeling was so strong and fast becoming a regular occurrence.

Reaching out for his phone again, Kyouya tapped out the names of several CEOs his father may have disagreed with in the past, but none of them seemed to fit the idea of harming the Ootori family. Specifically harming Kyouya's family, those closest to him.

On that same idea, he wondered if Haruhi had kept herself safe in the days after the trial. A pang of guilt jolted him upright—what about Yumiko? What kind of father was he that his first thought wasn't even his own daughter?

With shame-driven anxiety, he quickly sent Haruhi a message. His thumb hesitated over the _Send_ button before finally tapping it. Just to check everything was okay; just to make sure no one else was hurt. Kyouya might be falling apart inside, but he couldn't bear for anyone else on the outside to take the fall for whatever sins he had committed in the past.

Two, three, ten minutes past by and yet no reply. His fingers itched to do something, speak to someone. Without much thought, he clicked on to Haruhi's social media feed. She rarely updated—it probably wasn't her 'thing'—with the last personal post being five months ago, a selfie her father had taken with her. She looked reluctant, almost irritated, but nevertheless had a smile on her face. Kyouya smiled—that sounded like Haruhi. Not wanting to be in the spotlight.

Another post popped up, having been uploaded that minute. It was a photo with two hands belonging to two different people. One hand was adorned with a singular engagement ring. Haruhi was tagged on the left side, the empty hand. _Need to put on a ring on it, what are you waiting for HikaruHitachiin ?_

Kyouya's mouth went dry. What was going on? The post was uploaded by Miyo Fielding, who appeared to be on Haruhi's friends list.

Fielding… Fielding. Where had he heard that name before?

His head continued to throb as he tried to struggle through a myriad of thoughts, ideas that felt so foreign to him. Haruhi? Married? Of course that was entirely impossible, but wasn't he…? No, that's stupid. She was only taking care of Yumiko. And where was Yumiko in this picture? Where was his daughter?

He dialled the number and felt his breath rattle in his dry throat, sweat forming on his temples.

_I'm sorry, but the person you have dialled cannot take your call right now_.

"Damn it," he said, hamming a fist into his bed.

He looked back at the feed and searched for Hikaru's profile, but it was set to private. Kyouya scoffed—Hikaru was the least private of all at Ouran, second to Tamaki. Always wore his heart on his sleeve and never was afraid of others to see his emotions. What exactly had he said or done to Haruhi to twist her hand?

No, that's ridiculous. Haruhi was not married. He knew her, she was sensible and quietly private about these things. She wouldn't pair herself up with such an explosive personality… would she? It was no secret of her crush on Tamaki all those years ago. It was, perhaps, what had driven them all to opposite ends of life. They were all strangers to one another for so many years, and were suddenly now driven back to face each other. Something was forcing them together, and it infuriated Kyouya that he did not know what.

His phone rang. Without looking at the caller, he answered, his thoughts running a mile a minute.

"Haruhi? Where is she, where's Yumiko, what's going—"

"Relax, Kyouya," came a cool voice. "It's Hani."

Kyouya slumped back into his bed. His shirt stuck to his back in a layer of sweat. "Oh, I was just… I'd called her. I want to see my daughter."

"I know, Haruhi contacted me as soon as you messaged her. She knows you've been moved to a safe location. Kyouya, under the circumstances, I don't think it's safe for you to see your daughter."

"But I—"

The Captain's tone steeled. "We have to ensure everyone's safety, especially vulnerable children."

A warm feeling came to his face. He bit his lip and swallowed before speaking, "Very well. But I need to speak to Haruhi. I can't stand by and watch this all happen from the sidelines. And besides, if you keep me cooped up in this apartment, won't whoever-is-watching-me notice?"

A pause filled the air as the Captain mulled over the idea. "I'll send a car for you. The two of you can meet at the station tomorrow."

"Why not today?" Even as he said it, his body protested.

"The doctors said to give you a few days, but I'll give you one. I'm sure you'll be back to normal in no time, but please, Kyouya, don't do anything stupid for now." The phone clicked off, the dialling tone ringing in his ear.

In the seconds before slumber overtook, Kyouya wondered if his dreams would take him somewhere warm and safe.

* * *

Miyo insisted on flower shopping together. It was impossible to skip such an important event in preparation for the wedding, especially since they would both become "Desperate Hitachiin-Housewives". Haruhi wasn't sure which part of that to protest, but with Miyo's persistent nature, she didn't have much of a say in it.

"Kaoru is hopeless with this sort of thing," she said as they stepped out of the chauffer-driven car. Sunlight spilled into the streets, lining trees with honeyed greens and brought a sudden optimism on Haruhi's face. "So it was just going to be me… my parents aren't so invested."

Miyo paused, a pensive look overtaking her usual composed features, before she shook the thought away. "Never mind, let's go in!" She grabbed Haruhi by the hand and marched her into the florist.

It wasn't like a normal boutique. Sakura Flowers had two floors and an outdoor viewing garden, all milling with customers, generally women of all ages. Each flock of customers had a sales assistant attached, dressed in black with deep green aprons. Flowers of all kinds and colours blossomed from pots and hanging planters, their rich scents filling the air.

"The most luxurious flowers in the city," said Miyo, sighing happily. "We'll definitely find something here."

They walked amongst the crowd, pausing several times to inspect a particular arrangement. At one point Haruhi held her hand out behind her, before realising Yumiko wasn't there. She shook her head and tried to dismiss her paranoia.

_She's at home with Dad, just relax._

"Is there anything I can help you with? These camellia's are very in vogue right now," said a middle-aged sales assistant. She wore her auburn hair in a neat bun and pushed thick-rimmed glasses further up her nose.

Miyo smiled. "We're having a joint wed—"

"Flowers for a wedding, please," said Haruhi. She didn't want word to spread about this double wedding; indeed, she was just playing along to get more facts. The idea of breaking it off hadn't even occurred to her. It would be a bitter matter with Hikaru, but she couldn't think about that now. He knew her intentions.

The sales assistant nodded with understanding and led them further in the back, towards the outdoor garden. As they stood by the large windows, Haruhi peered into the garden. A fountain stood off-centre, spouting clear water elegantly in three different directions. Just beyond that was a hexagonal glass greenhouse, its windows dotted with more plants. A figure stood inside it, tending to the leaves, and turned towards the store.

Haruhi's heart froze, stuck in the past.

"…I'm not sure, I mean I think they might be alright for table centres, but they don't really match the colour scheme. What do you think Haruhi?" Miyo tapped her shoulder. She jolted into the present before shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, just got distracted. You know what, I think I'm going to take a little wander around," she said. Miyo raised her eyebrows, mouth pouting. "But don't make any decisions without me!" Haruhi added with faux-enthusiasm, not wanting to upset her.

She stepped into the garden, pretending to observe the flowers and zigzagging through the small pockets of crowds before standing outside the greenhouse. A sign hung on the door, "Staff Only," but she knocked on the glass nonetheless.

The stoic face stared at her with those same dark eyes. They softened as Haruhi called his name.

"Takashi. Is it really you?"

* * *

They sat around the small table inside the greenhouse as Takashi—Haruhi couldn't bring herself to use his nickname, Mori—poured both of them a small cup of tea. Staring back to the garden, he took a small sip.

"So this is your job?" she asked politely. She had forgotten about his solitary and quiet nature, though it was his most attractive feature when mingled with his good looks.

He shook his head. "I own Sakura. There are a couple of other branches in the city, but this is its biggest one."

"But you're out here in the garden," said Haruhi. "Aren't CEOs usually in their offices?"

A small smile spread across his lips before disappearing just as quick. "Usually. I like to get some fresh air." He put his cup down on its saucer. "I've always liked flowers."

"This is… I mean, wow. I never thought I'd run into you again after Ouran." Haruhi laughed. "Actually, I never thought I'd run into any of the Club again."

"Life has a funny way of bringing us around, full circle."

Miyo had stepped into the garden herself, wandering around in full concentration of the sales assistant's every word.

"I don't suppose you've been watching the news recently…"

"I have," said Takashi. He looked at her once again, a tense expression written across his eyes. "It must be hard on you."

"Not as much as it just frustrates me," said Haruhi before catching herself. They said nothing more for a few minutes, settling in the sun's glow made warmer inside the greenhouse.

_Funny how we've all reunited in some way in the space of a month,_ thought Haruhi. _All except—_

"Do you ever miss Ouran? Being together with everyone?" said Haruhi.

Takashi nodded. "A little. It was almost like a family, I suppose."

"Do you remember how it all fell apart?" she said quietly, as if to herself.

He let out a small sigh. "His death marked the start of a different life for us all. I don't believe any of us were quite the same after Tamaki passed." He said it so matter-of-fact, without betraying a trace of emotion, and yet Haruhi knew he felt it as deeply as she did.

"It was so sudden," she agreed, "So horrible and unfair and… and I never even got to say goodbye. You remember, the funeral was in France."

Takashi nodded once more. "It was odd, of course."

"The funeral?"

"No, just how everything happened. Within two weeks we had moved on. The Suoh family closed themselves off, understandably, but nothing was looked into. There was no inquiry, no investigation. It was as if the whole world had conspired to lock him away, and had thrown away the key."

Haruhi blinked. She had never thought of it that way. Tamaki was stabbed and the attacker ran, a murky shadow in the blind spots of their memories. Only she and Kyouya had been there at the time, Kyouya taking one second to look over his friend before running in pursuit. A dark shadow fell over the Host Club, and they stopped their activities for good. Ouran was never the same after Tamaki, and Haruhi thought, neither were any of them.

"And now we've all been gathered up," said Haruhi, braving a smile. She got up. "Thank you for the tea, Takashi. I'm sure we'll see each other again."

He held the door open for her as she left the greenhouse and reunited with Miyo beyond the fountain. But Haruhi couldn't concentrate on camellias, tulips, or white roses.

A chord of intuition struck inside her and kept thrumming.

Haruhi was sure their paths crossing was not down to the merest of coincidence.

* * *

**Please leave a comment, favourite, or follow! :)**


	6. Chapter 21

Hikaru's palms were sweaty. He took them both out of his pockets, stared at them briefly, and hid them again. Panic prickled inside him. It twisted in his gut and crawled up his throat, U-turning at the last minute back into the middle of him.

He stood on the opposite pavement to the apartment and watched as the familiar sight of _her_ walked by in the distance. She was bleary eyed with unbrushed hair and, as always, a plain face with reddened cheeks. Even from such a distance, the dark circles beneath her eyes could be seen.

And it was just how Haruhi was, the way she held herself even when she was visibly exhausted, that made Hikaru's love for her swell even more. He just wished he could help her.

"Hey! Hikaru!" called Haruhi from the other side of the road. His hiding place behind a slim tree trunk had failed. He waved at her and sauntered over despite his face becoming a violent shade of red. "What are you doing outside my place?"

"What are _you_ doing outside your old place? Is my apartment not good enough for you?" He meant it to come out as a joke, a slight tease, but instead Haruhi frowned.

"Oh no, no of course not. We're all happy, me, Dad, and Yumi. I just wanted to check in on the place and pick up some files for work." Her tone was deeply apologetic. Hikaru felt bad.

They weren't stepping in time, nothing was in sync, and his plan was probably going to fail. But he had come this far, so he may as well go the whole way.

Once on her floor, Haruhi hesitated at the door, key hovering over the lock. Impatience prickled inside him once more, wanting her to just open the door, but he pushed it back.

"Are you okay?" He wanted to place a hand on hers but held himself in check.

_Not now. Let her breathe._

"I am." Haruhi slid the key inside the lock. "I just…" She smiled at him as she turned the handle. "I'm really glad you're here."

As Hikaru blushed his heart flipped inside his chest, but Haruhi hadn't noticed. She stepped onto a pile of letters on the floor of her dark apartment.

A chill whistled down Hikaru's spine as he stepped forward, reaching a hand out to turn a light on. Though the apartment looked the same as before Hikaru couldn't help but tense at the sight of the sofa and coffee table with toys strewn across the floor. It was as if he was back here on that day, with Kaoru, playing with Yumiko, when—

"I forgot I hadn't tidied up properly." Haruhi shook her head at the mess before turning into the kitchen, flipping through the various mail, flyers, and takeaway menus.

Hikaru pulled himself out of the past. He couldn't forget that feeling of helplessness as he and his brother were beaten up by the thugs dressed in black. He vowed he'd never feel that way again.

"You know, I was thinking if you needed to find out some proper information from Miyo's dad, we'd need to be a bit more convincing." He pulled up a stool and sat across the counter from her.

"And how's that…" said Haruhi absently. She tore open several letters with bill payments before her hand landed on a pale blue envelope. It was plain and unsealed. She slipped it open and a single leaf of paper drifted on to the countertop.

_**You were never meant to be involved**_

She lifted it up to Hikaru, frowning at him. "Did you write this?"

He shook his head. "Why would I do that? Besides, it looks like a girl's handwriting."

"What makes you say that?"

"Look," he said, taking the paper from her. "It's all neat and curly." The cursive was written in black ink, a slight flourish at the ends of each letter.

Haruhi snatched it back, sliding it into the envelope. She opened the remainders of her admin, muttering under her breath. Her usual soft features were now sharp and tired, the weight of another world pushing down on her shoulders.

She muttered to herself, clearly running through a mental to-do list, and scraped the stool back.

_It's either now or never_, hissed his thoughts. Hikaru leant forward and held her hand gently. Her eyes widened before she smirked.

"Come on Hikaru, I haven't got time for this."

"What I was _saying_, was we need to be more realistic for Fielding to believe we're actually… er, engaged."

Sweaty palms pulled out a small black box from his pocket. He had barely clicked it open before Haruhi snapped it shut with her free hand.

"What are you doing." It wasn't a question. Her voice wavered on the last word.

"Relax, I'm not proposing," said Hikaru though he was sure his face was turning red. "It's nothing special."

Inside the velvet of the box sat a slim, silver ring with a cluster of small diamonds. It caught the kitchen light, twinkling up at them. Hikaru plucked it out the box and brought her left hand forward, hesitating over her fourth finger.

"I'm going to help you get to the bottom of this." He spoke softly into the darkened kitchen.

The ring touched the tip of her finger, but she didn't recoil. Hikaru looked into Haruhi's eyes—those warm, chocolate eyes he'd always sought to find since the day they met—and gently squeezed her cold hand. "I know you must be tired and scared, Haruhi. But you don't have to do it alone. I'm here, too."

She nodded.

In the hush of the quiet apartment, far up high from any noise of the city, Hikaru slipped the ring on. She wiggled her fingers, a hesitant smile spreading through her face, before an alarm blared out from her pocket.

"Oh my God, I'm late for my appointment!" She scooped up the letters and put them to one side, sliding the blue envelope in her jacket pocket.

"What about your files?" said Hikaru.

"I'll get them later." She stopped for a second to look at him, her eyes searching for something in his face, before she shook her head. "Can you lock the door for me? I'll get the keys back from you, sorry I'm just in such a rush."

And as if he hadn't placed an engagement ring on her finger, Haruhi left him in a silence that shrouded his world.

* * *

Kyouya knew he looked awful. His chin was unshaven, hair a greasy bird's nest, and the clothes he wore were not freshly laundered. In the reflection of the one-way mirror he grimaced, rubbing tired eyes beneath his glasses.

He could hear the words of his father echoing in his mind.

_Such behaviour does not befit an Ootori_

He had fallen through bouts of poor sleep in the night, only to wake up to a knock on the door of his apartment.

Hani had arranged for a police escort. Never had Kyouya felt more like a criminal, more uncomfortable in his own skin.

In the interview room he could barely sit still. It wasn't just the nervous energy that pulsated through his body; it stormed in his mind, shooting thoughts this way and that, arresting him of any coherent ideas.

Then, the door opened.

"Where's Yumiko?" The words left his lips before the door clicked shut.

Haruhi frowned at him before gesturing at the chairs in front of them. "Kyouya, we need to talk."

"Where is my daughter?" His voice steeled, tone grating.

As she placed her bag on the table, Haruhi ran a hand through her hair. Dark smudges circled her eyes as she wavered over the chair before sitting down.

"My dad is looking after her. Hani and I didn't think it was right to bring her to a police station."

"And what authority do you have to decide that? I'm her—"

"Yes, you're her father," cut through Haruhi. "But I'm her legal guardian. Kyouya, please, sit. We need to discuss how to move forward."

Almost defeated, Kyouya followed her outstretched hand and took the chair opposite.

And there it was, as it caught the harsh light of the interview room, a ring sparkling from her hand.

"I didn't realise a congratulations was in order."

Haruhi blinked in confusion before her eyes followed Kyouya's. A deep red bloomed across her cheeks before she hastily shrugged the ring off and dropped it into her bag.

"That's nothing, just a silly—"

"Is there something I should know?"

He'd told himself countless times the night before, in the long stretches of lying awake, that he didn't care. What did it matter if Haruhi was getting married? She was an adult, free to make her own decisions. He had nothing to do with her. In fact, if it were not for Yumiko's care arrangement, he would barely have been in contact with his old classmate.

But then that same storm in his mind shot those thoughts down as quickly as they rose.

_Of course_ he cared. His heart brightened when she was in the same room, confusion evaporating from his mind like steam. He wanted to spend time with her, beneath an oak tree in a quiet park, underneath stars in a cool desert, asleep on their sofa with the rolling credits of a film they'd watched together.

It hurt to think of her with someone else. It hurt Kyouya to think that he could lose Haruhi simply because she didn't know just how much he cared.

"I was just trying it on. It's not important," said Haruhi.

She was lying, that much he knew. Perhaps not about being engaged, but there was definitely something hidden inside.

"Did you send me this?" She pulled out a blue envelope from her bag, revealing its contents.

Kyouya examined the note, turning the delicate piece of paper over in his hand. Aside from the cursive note on the front, there was nothing else. The writing looked vaguely familiar, almost like his sister's when she used to write him handwritten letters after she had moved away.

"Not me. Where did you find this?"

"In my apartment. I was sorting through the junk mail—there was so much after we'd moved out."

"And where are you staying now?" It was not a shock that Haruhi would have made the sensible decision to stay elsewhere after being burgled.

"Hikaru offered his place—"

Kyouya scoffed. "I'm sure that made you laugh."

She crossed her arms, a tight frown on her lips. "Why would that be funny?"

"Well, because of his silly deal with you. You know, get you to fall in love with him in under a month. That's the kind of antics the twins would pull back in the Club."

Haruhi said nothing, her gaze falling to the space between them.

"You can't be serious, you're _actually_ living in his apartment!"

Kyouya stood up, unsure where he was going, but knowing he couldn't sit still.

"So what? Is it your business what I do with my life? What are you, some sort of shadow that always has to hang over me?"

_The Shadow King_

_It's all your fault_

_You lost him, you lost her_

_You're losing everyone_

Kyouya gripped the edge of the table, his jaws clenched. He wouldn't cry here, not in front of her, not in front of anyone.

"Yeah, that's what I am. A shadow." He pushed the chair back, careful not to look at his reflection.

"Kyouya, you can't leave. We've still got a lot to discuss."

"I was just discharged from hospital. I only wanted to see my daughter." His words came out so small and quiet.

As he moved towards the door, Kyouya paused next to Haruhi. He wanted to do it, to tell her all the things he cared about her, but it wasn't the right time.

It never was.

And besides, such behaviour did not befit an Ootori.

* * *

**Sorry for the two month break, I guess it's another thing we can blame COVID-19 for! I hope everyone is well and safe :)**


	7. Chapter 22

_Some years ago, Ouran High School_

"Senpai, why are we hiding here again?" His hand was wrapped tightly around her wrist as he dragged her through the freshly cut rose maze in the south garden. "This'll be the first place they'll look."

"Ah, but then it'll be too obvious!" said Tamaki as they arrived at the hidden alcove. "This is, I believe, called a double bluff." He pushed her gently to sit beneath the table, completely out of sight.

Haruhi grit her teeth but sat quietly as she muttered to herself, "At least it'll be over in a few minutes…"

And yet, as the midday sun grew hotter in the sky, no one came. A soft breeze tickled the pink rose petals that grew on the walls of the maze, wafting them this way and that.

"They've given up," said Haruhi. "Let's go before lunch is over—eh, Senpai? Are you crying?"

"No," Tamaki whimpered. He rubbed the sleeve of his blazer over his face. "Daddy's just sad that no one wants to play!"

_My stomach will growl any second… why did I skip breakfast today of all days?_

"I'm going, I'll see you back at school." But as she got up, there was a hand on her wrist again, pulling her down.

"Say, Haruhi. Stay here a little while with me?" A blush crept across his cheeks, probably from the heat of the day. The two of them sat in the shade of the alcove as Haruhi listened, with little interest, to Tamaki's plans of the Host Club.

It had been a month since they rescued the King from Éclair Tonerre, from a life he was being forced into. No one could tell any difference on Tamaki's face, and yet when Haruhi watched him talk about the Club, she knew he was where he wanted to be. Home.

Though these rich kids lived such a different life to her, Haruhi couldn't fathom being trapped in a family that despised your very existence. She knew the love of her mother and father was threaded gently in her every breathe. To not have such wealth embedded within you made life seem awfully cold.

When she asked her question, it came out so suddenly, more an extension of her thoughts. "Senpai, do you hate your grandmother?"

Haruhi instantly regretted it. She didn't want to upset her friend.

Tamaki paused, caught in surprise, before looking up into the sky—its colour reflecting in the pools of his eyes. Birds chirped in the distance and the clocktower chimed the hour. Lunch hour was over.

"She's not had an easy life. I don't blame her for the way she feels."

Perhaps it was the way he could be so graceful in his selflessness, or maybe it really was the heat of the day, but something stirred inside Haruhi. Almost like this was exactly where she wanted to be.

"Haru-chan! Here you are!" Haruhi found herself being dragged out from beneath the alcove by the short third year, Hani. Mori towered silently over the two of them. "Usa-chan was wondering where you had gone."

"What took you guys so long?" said Haruhi, frowning at the twins.

"Oh, we got bored," they said in unison, lifting their hands up and shaking their heads. "And we wanted to eat."

"And I've had no food all day," muttered Haruhi, "these rich—"

"We brought you some lunch, Haruhi." Kyouya appeared from behind the twins, a notebook wedged under one arm and a box of food in the other. "We thought Tamaki might have forgotten about your need to eat."

"Of course I didn't forget!" yelled the King as the rest of the group began to walk away. "Why would you make me sound like a bad father! Wait, are you all leaving me? Come back! Haruhi!"

* * *

"Haruhi!"

A hand shook her shoulder vigorously.

"Huh, what is it?" she said, blinking several times before realising where she was.

Back in Sakura Flowers with Miyo, who was holding a bouquet of roses in her hand.

"You drifted off for a while there," said Miyo. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Haruhi cleared her throat. "Yes, absolutely fine."

They had returned here after the previous fruitless visit, and this time Miyo was determined to choose a flower arrangement for their weddings. Though Haruhi wanted to break to her that she wasn't _actually_ engaged to Hikaru, she said nothing. Other thoughts were weighing heavily on her mind and she needed to stay close to Miyo without upsetting her.

Besides, Hikaru was keen to be in on the plan. That was enough.

They wandered around the aisles of flowers as Miyo pointed to a particularly bright coloured arrangement, commenting how they reminded her of home.

"So you're going to live here after the wedding? Will you miss England?" asked Haruhi.

Miyo tucked her hair behind her ears and paused for a moment. "I suppose I will a little. I did grow up there, after all. But it'll be nice to have a fresh start somewhere else, you know?"

Haruhi nodded, though this was not what she wanted to get at. "And your parents will come visit you often, I'm sure."

A chill came over the atmosphere. Miyo traced a finger around a large, blue hydrangea. "I… I don't know. My dad's been prickly ever since we announced the engagement." Her perfect accent slipped a few English words in.

"Prickly?" said Haruhi, feigning ignorance. "What do you mean?"

"When we were dating, he said nothing. He probably thought it was just a summer romance that would disappear. And then, when Kaoru came to our home some months ago, we announced the engagement. He was so upset by this but won't ever explain why.

"I'd have thought he'd enjoy being connected to a successful Japanese family, especially for his business, but somehow that doesn't seem to be in his interest."

"Well," said Haruhi, "I wouldn't say that's a bad thing. I mean, he only wants you to be happy then, he's not interested in fame and money?"

"Perhaps," said Miyo. "But some weeks before we came to Japan, he changed his mind so suddenly. He wanted to be involved, wanted to give me as much support. He insisted we go to Kaoru's home immediately, and there was no time to waste.

"And yet since we've been here, he's been nothing but a sourpuss. Just being so grumpy and… and awful!"

Her cheeks reddened as she spoke and before she knew it, the hydrangea petals had crumpled in her palm.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't even be saying this." Miyo looked up and smiled. "Thank you for listening to me though, Haruhi. I appreciate it."

Haruhi said nothing but smiled back. They continued to meander through the store as her gaze wandered to the back garden, where Takashi had sat in his greenhouse.

Now it stood empty, though blooming with life.

Never in as many years as he'd lived did Kyouya ever think he would be trapped by the four walls of his room. All his life he'd had the freedom to go wherever he pleased, using either his family's name or his own cool charm.

Yet now, he wanted to leave, to oppose Captain Haninozuka's orders, but even the slightest imperious nature he had was extinguished by absolute fatigue.

What was even wrong with him? Why did he seem so… so…

_Fragile_

No, that wasn't it. He stared at his ceiling from the sofa beneath a thin blanket. He wasn't fragile, and this wasn't a nervous breakdown. He was just stressed.

_Yes, stressed. That sounds more like it_.

The Captain had phoned earlier—woken him up, more like—and told him he would be visiting with an update. In that time Kyouya had scrolled endlessly on his phone for what sort of news this could be, but of course anything that the Captain would be privy to wouldn't be public knowledge.

_You know that, you idiot._

That wasn't the only reason he was glued to his phone. There were still no updates from Haruhi and her supposed engagement, but there was someone far more interesting for the time being. Miyo Fielding.

The name clicked into place during a fever dream as the courtroom was brought back to Kyouya by his cruel subconscious.

Miyo Fielding, Ian Fielding's only child. Ian Fielding, the surprise witness who claimed he had seen Kyouya leave the house of his murdered wife.

This was easily verifiable by Miyo's social media presence. A couple of photos of her parents were found in the feed of recent vacation pictures.

Ian Fielding, CEO of Accenture Electronics, a growing big brand in the UK. And, by what Kyouya could surmise from various company reports available to the public, looking to branch into international commerce. It seemed Fielding had used his daughter's convenient marriage to dip his toes into the Japanese economy.

_A spineless man like that would never last_.

A firm knock came at the door. Kyouya shuffled to the door and let Captain Hani inside the apartment.

In a previous time, Hani would have bounded in as he clutched a pink rabbit in his arm. Now the short Captain walked with quiet purpose into the living room and took off his hat. He looked around at the empty table and bare walls.

"What, no tea?" said Hani. "Kyouya, you sure have forgotten how to host a guest."

Kyouya frowned before he saw the slight smile play on Hani's lips.

"I'm joking! Here, I brought some cake."

Hani placed two small boxes on the table and opened their lids, revealing a slice of strawberry cheesecake and chocolate cake.

"I don't eat this stuff," said Kyouya.

A slight pout formed on Hani's face. "You need to eat something. You look awful."

"Thanks," muttered Kyouya. He settled himself on the sofa again, still wrapped in the blanket. Massaging his forehead, he took his glasses off and closed his eyes.

"So, what's this update you needed to give me?"

Hani brought a chair from the kitchen to sit across from Kyouya. His eyes sparkled as he picked up the box of cheesecake.

"We've cleared you," said Hani in between bites, "to move back to your own place."

Kyouya slipped his glasses back on. "What do you mean? Aren't I in danger?"

Hani shook his head. "We've been monitoring your stay here and have no evidence of suspicious activity outside and around the apartment."

"It's only been a matter of weeks. Surely they could just be biding their time, whoever they are?"

With the first box empty, Hani placed the chocolate cake box inside it and took a bigger bite than before. He chewed with such gusto that Kyouya wondered if things had really changed at all.

"They could, but they would more likely attack you in your own home than if you were in a police safe house. Our cars have been picking you up every now and then, so it wouldn't be difficult to miss."

_Small comfort_, thought Kyouya, _if I'm going home to be ambushed_.

He held on to the blanket tightly. "I'm not a carrot to be dangled on your rope, Captain."

Hani wiped the corners of his mouth and shook his head. "You'll be perfectly safe. We'll station some of our men outside your place, twenty-four seven. But I would suggest you keep your daughter safely away with Haruhi until this is resolved."

"And when will that be?"

Hani shrugged. "We're doing our best, and I'm keeping you as updated as I can." He paused and stared at the empty cake box, buttery crumbs staining the white cardboard. "This may run deeper than you think."

A shiver ran through Kyouya's body, though the apartment was sufficiently warm.

"Just keep your wits about you," said Hani. "We're not out of the woods, not by a mile."

* * *

Despite the bowl of steaming noodle soup in front of her, Haruhi had barely acknowledged her dinner. She tapped the table with her fingers as her father fed Yumiko. He looked up and frowned.

"Don't tell me you ate when you were out, I spent so long making that!" Cooking was still not Ryoji's strong point. "Haruhi, what's the matter?"

Wordlessly she reached for her purse that dangled at the back of the chair, clicking it open to fish out the letter from before.

"Dad, what do you think this means?" She slid the paper towards him. "I had Captain Haninozuka look it over, but there were no prints on it besides mine."

"Captain… Hanino—oh, you mean that sweet blonde kid from Ouran? My, he's a captain now?" said Ryoji as he looked over the sheet of paper. "Where did you get this from?"

"It was in the pile of letters in my apartment. Someone clearly posted it through, but it wasn't sealed."

"'_You were never meant to be involved_'… involved in what?"

"Judging by what's been happening, I'm assuming it's to do with the case." She finally took a bite of noodles. "Neither Hikaru nor Kyouya said they did it, but then again it looks like a woman's handwriting, don't you think? I don't know else would be sympathetic towards me. I highly doubt Yumiko's grandmother would have sent such a cryptic message."

"And what makes you say it was a woman?" said Ryoji.

Haruhi looked up from her food. "The handwriting. It's all curly."

"Is _your_ handwriting curly?" said her father.

"No, but—"

"Haruhi Fujioka, since when did you ever put a stereotype on women?" A sharpness struck his words.

"You mean to say it could be a man?"

Yumiko whined at the disruption of her dinner service, demanding for more food to be sent her way, but no one was listening.

Ryoji pushed the paper back to Haruhi and wrestled a spoon out of Yumiko's pudgy hands. "Possibly. Whoever it was must have pride in their creativity. Someone who takes their time and enjoys the moment."

A chair scraped back. Haruhi swung her purse around her shoulders and grabbed her jacket from the sofa.

"Hey, where are you going? It's getting dark!"

She leant down and kissed Yumiko's head. "Don't wait for me, I'll be back soon. I need to figure this out."

A lightbulb hadn't gone off in her head, but if Haruhi knew better after years of solving her clients' puzzles, was that rarely ever happened.

Sometimes, you had to go chasing after the truth with a hammer.

* * *

Takashi watered the flowers in his greenhouse slowly, watching as the slight sprinkles of water could weigh heavily on delicate petals. The evening was his favourite time to tend to his little garden, a space away from the rest of the world. When the store was completely closed, and muted silence permeated throughout the air, that was when his thoughts came alive. They unfurled and bloomed into life inside the greenhouse.

The girls had made a big sale today. They chittered and twittered when he returned at the end of the day, updating the boss about it. Most likely they were after a commission, but Takashi liked to hear it nonetheless.

"And did you hear, Sir, who's wedding it was? None other than Kaoru Hitachiin!" his lead florist had said. "No doubt it'll be a big one, I'm sure we'll all hear about it when it happens. His fiancée? Oh, some British girl. Seems nice enough, though her friend wasn't all that helpful. It didn't sound like she was interested in the wedding."

Kaoru getting married was news to him. He often wondered what happened to the twins after graduating, but Tamaki's death was a blow to all of them. If the Host Club were really a family, then they were still in bereavement. Grief had torn them apart and it would stay that way unless someone could bring them back together again.

A chill spread down his neck. Takashi straightened up and stared at the main store. Its lights were off, and everyone had gone home, yet a faint tapping sound could be heard within. He placed the watering can on the table and turned off the greenhouse's light.

Light from the streetlamps flooded into the store, casting a ghostly glow across sleeping flowers. As soon as he stepped foot back inside, the tapping stopped. He looked around the darkness, taking in each detail, before the slightest figure stood out in the shadows. He started towards it before the tapping started again; footsteps running from him.

He pursued, taking care not to disturb the flowers, but barely broke into a run. He cut off the intruder at the front of the store.

"Takashi, stop, it's me!"

In the silver light stood Haruhi, her eyes glaring at him. She held an envelope in her hand.

"Haruhi."

"The front entrance was still open, so I thought you might still be here."

He glanced at the sliding doors. That was unusual of the girls. Though they liked to gossip, they were attentive employees. They'd never left the store without ensuring the doors and windows were locked up.

"Tell me, why did you send me this?" She held up a paper to him. It had delicate, fanciful writing.

In the gloom he could not make out the words but knew well enough his own hands had not written on blue paper.

"That wasn't me," he said. "Did you come out so late just to ask me this?"

Haruhi sighed and leaned against the wall. "It's been annoying me so much. A mysterious letter from an unknown stranger—it's the last thing I need right now."

A small sound echoed from the second floor, like a cat pushing against the metal railings. It could have been anything, but the chill had not left Takashi. He motioned towards the door.

"I'll take you home," he said.

Haruhi resisted in her usual fashion but Takashi shook his head.

"It's not safe out so late."

After he had dropped her off he returned to the store, knowing full well the cat had no chance to escape.

* * *

Some hours later Takashi stood in the viewing garden beneath a cool night sky. He spoke softly on the phone.

"Mitsukuni," he said as he stared at his darkened store. "It is as we thought."


	8. Chapter 23

_Some years ago, Third Music Room_

The door clicked shut as the twins left him alone.

The late afternoon light poured through the windows. Deep pink and orange dappled across the decadent walls and chandeliers. Now was the chance to catch up on the weekly accounts.

His taps on the keyboard created small echoes in the quiet of an unused music room, like ripples in a pond. At one point he sat back, after he'd checked through emails and spreadsheets, and watched as the sky turned darker and the sun sunk lower in the horizon.

In that silence, Kyouya sighed.

He had heard it only yesterday, a slight slip of the tongue from his father. Nothing he wouldn't have ordinarily paid much attention to, but there it was. Like a snake burrowing its fangs into a sleeping victim. _They wouldn't know till they woke up._ And Kyouya was going to watch it happen in slow motion from his prison cell, paralysed from helping.

"Working late, are you?" Tamaki stood at the door, his slender fingers on the handle, and smiled at his friend. "What would we do without you?"

"I thought you went home," said Kyouya, turning back to the laptop.

"I left something behind."

Tamaki strode across the room to the corner where Kyouya sat and laid himself down on the couch next to him. Light slid across his face, golden glints in his eyes.

Kyouya pushed his glasses up to his face and stared at the screen like a statue. He didn't know what he was looking at, or if there was anything to read. It was all one blurry mass but he didn't want to wipe his eyes.

Tamaki was talking. Kyouya wasn't sure what he said but his voice was like a smooth breeze on a warm afternoon. It was just like the King, one so eloquent, who could play with words with such ease. A genuine kindness poured from him. In Kyouya's passionless world full of glacial interactions, Tamaki was a blooming sun. Life grew wherever he went.

It was only when Kyouya shut his laptop did the cold air hit him. The words caught in his throat like a stone pushed inside a vein.

"There's something you should know." Tamaki's smile had dissolved, the spark in his eyes subdued. "Kyouya, are you listening?"

He stared at his friend, almost afraid of what was to come. "What is it?"

"I really want to dye my hair black, but will the Club lose money?" Tamaki pouted a little. "I just wanted to try it out!"

The stone shrivelled, out of sight. Kyouya smiled. He didn't remember answering, but Tamaki's pout grew bigger. All he could see was the light shining on Tamaki's blonde hair, a halo glittering around the King.

* * *

_Kyouya_

_Are you listening?_

Children screamed in the park. They ran in circles around him as he sat with a cup of coffee on the bench. They pushed each other down the slide, flew high on the swings, and chucked sand at each other in the sandbox.

And even in the midst of the noise, he heard her voice.

"But why this park? It's so busy, the one near the apartment was much better."

"Haruhi, trust me, Yumiko will like this one."

Kyouya clenched the paper cup. He looked up and saw his daughter toddle shyly towards the sandbox, only a few feet away from him. She stretched her hand out to hold a lone bucket before it was snatched away by a little boy.

"No, that's mine!" he yelled as he ran away.

Yumiko's face buckled, mouth wobbling, but she didn't cry. Instead, she stumbled back to Haruhi and wrapped her arms around her legs.

"See, the kids here are too mean," said Haruhi to her father.

"Let's sit over there," said Ryoji, nodding vaguely at the bench.

Haruhi hadn't noticed him at first as he sat by himself under the shade in a sea of children. He wasn't sure if he should stare at her, try to catch her eyes, but he looked at Yumiko instead. She barely noticed him and held on to Haruhi's finger with her little hand as they walked towards the bench.

It didn't take much effort to contact Ryoji Fujioka—his phone number hadn't changed from when Kyouya sought him out to do a background check on Haruhi at Ouran. It turns out he was just as pleased to hear from him.

"You two really need to get it together," Ryoji had said the day before. "There's a child involved. For your daughter's sake can't you come to an agreement?"

"It's not that easy—"

"Look, Haruhi's a sensible woman; you know that. If you're not getting through to her, then it's probably because of something that doesn't sit right with her, for a good reason. You just have to find out what it is."

"Look who's here! Why, if it isn't Kyouya!" said Ryoji with a big smile.

Haruhi said nothing to him at first. She crouched down to Yumiko's level, who simply stared at her father. Soft brown locks were tucked behind her ears, chubby cheeks a blush red. Her eyes were big and brown and warm. Kyouya had a sudden urge to scoop her up and hold her tight.

"Yumiko, this is your daddy, remember?"

If anything had made Kyouya feel more like a failure, those words hammered it home. He wasn't there for his daughter. He hadn't kept her safe, didn't look out for her. The last thing he wanted was to turn into his own father.

Yumiko shook her head and wrapped her arms around Haruhi's neck, burying her head in Haruhi's hair. She was probably still upset from the bucket, but that didn't make Kyouya feel any better.

"Sorry, I think she just needs her nap," said Haruhi. "Should we even be meeting… here?"

"Public places are safe," muttered Kyouya. It was like he had a bad mark on him. "That's what the Captain said, at least."

He pulled a small package out from his jacket pocket. Yumiko leaned over as curiosity grew in her watery eyes. Kyouya tore the plastic packet open and pulled out a small doll. It had dark polyester hair and a cute, red smile.

"Here you go," he said softly. "She's your friend."

Yumiko took the doll in her hands, her little mouth open in surprise. She looked shyly at Kyouya and hugged the doll tightly before smiling at him. Like the sun had entered his mind, Kyouya felt the cold thaw inside him.

"Right, give her to me," said Ryoji. He clapped his hands once and pulled Yumiko gently from Haruhi. "Let's go play on the swings!"

"Be careful," called out Haruhi, concern in her eyes. "Maybe I should go with them…"

"I don't think your father would let you do that," said Kyouya.

She hesitated for a moment before turning around, hovering around the bench.

"That was sweet of you, with the doll."

"Well, she is my child." The words came out crassly, but that wasn't what he meant. "You can sit here. I won't bite."

They sat in silence, both watching Yumiko intently on the swings. Her small hands wrapped around the chain as she was pushed into flight, Ryoji keeping her at a gentle speed.

"You dad seems to get on with her."

"He's always liked kids," said Haruhi. "He was always the fun one."

Kyouya frowned. "If there's any fun, it'll never come from my family."

The leaves rustled in the tree overhead, the sun glinting through the gaps across the ground. Haruhi said nothing else. Perhaps she didn't want to upset him.

"About what happened, in the police station—"

"It's fine, Kyouya." Her words were curt but then her eyes softened. "I'm not engaged. I needed an excuse to stay close to Miyo."

She explained her hunch, that Kaoru's future father-in-law was hiding something. How he recognised her from that day in the courtroom and she made up the excuse of being engaged to Hikaru.

"I bet he loved that," muttered Kyouya, trying not to grit his teeth.

"Well, no. I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm just using him. I guess I am, a little. Besides, that's not what's important right now.

"Ian Fielding didn't want to come to Japan until the last minute. They came to Tokyo two weeks before Cho's death, and then he claims he's going for a run in the neighbourhood when they are about an hour's walk apart.

"From what I hear from Miyo, he's been in a bad mood since arriving. And when I met him, he certainly didn't like me."

Kyouya pushed his glasses up and brought out his phone. "I'd read that Accenture Electronics bought out a small venture based in Tokyo, two weeks after the… after Cho died." It hurt to say it, but he cleared his throat. "A failing technology company. I'm sure I can find the parent company name…"

He nearly dropped his phone.

"What is it?" asked Haruhi.

Yumiko shrieked with laughter on the swings, the doll sitting cosily next to her.

"Kyouya?"

Their eyes met.

"The Suoh Group. Chairman, Tamaki Suoh."

* * *

Hikaru was bored.

It was different being bored on your own. With Kaoru, it wouldn't have taken them long to find another attraction, another activity to distract themselves with. But now as Kaoru was busy with wedding preparations, Hikaru found himself lost in a haze.

Though he was back in his family home he missed the privacy of his own apartment. Perhaps that's what made him even more bored—being holed up in one room for most of the day.

He cracked his fingers over his head while yawning and rolled off the bed to slouch towards the door. His gaze wandered back to his phone left on the covers. Haruhi hadn't mentioned anything about the ring and he didn't want to press it. In fact, he needed to take his mind off of everything.

A breeze drifted through the corridor from an open window. Hikaru followed its direction absently, hands in his pocket, in search of a distraction. One foot in front of the other, he wondered when his brother would be back.

They always knew this time would come, where their lives would irreparably split. Only it was Kaoru who seemed to bear the brunt of it back in Ouran, obsessed with his pumpkins, knowing full well that Haruhi had broke into their isolated world without intending to. And with that, Hikaru had been enamoured by her.

Kaoru grew up first. He knew he couldn't always be with his brother and began his soft separation back in school. It was only when he brought Miyo home with a serious smile on his face that Hikaru realised it was real.

There were more open windows across the east corridor, where the Fieldings were staying. Hikaru didn't pay them mind. Mrs Fielding was demure and pleasant while her husband could be volatile if the wrong fuse was set. But he liked Miyo, and so kept his mouth shut where he could. She was sharp and clever yet possessed a charming disposition. They hadn't played the _Which one is Hikaru?_ game with her. They didn't need to, not when they'd changed so much themselves.

Still, Hikaru often wondered if she could have guessed them apart if she knew them as young boys.

"—my part, now do yours. I want my half."

Hikaru stopped before the end of the corridor. The last door that led to a small library was left ajar. A crackly voice kept talking.

"I'm sorry? No, no. I did everything as asked. You gave me a dead deal, I want a better share of the business."

Leaning forwards a little, Hikaru looked in the room. It was dark, save for a small laptop open. A dark figure sat at the desk, hands tightening around the phone he spoke into.

"With the greatest of respects, your empire is dying. I can bring it back to life."

Ian Fielding shut the laptop down and swung the chair around to face the wall.

"What do you mean, 'you don't do business with murderers'? I only acted on your behalf!"

Hikaru stumbled back. His shoes squeaked on the floor. Before he could run, Ian Fielding had already opened the door wide.

"Ah, Tweedledum. I thought I'd heard a rat." His square frame filled the doorway despite being a couple of feet shorter. With his free hand Fielding rubbed his bald head. In the other he clutched his phone. The crackly voice was silent.

"I was looking for my brother," said Hikaru, his throat dry.

"I'm sure you were," said Fielding. "Let's cut this little dance, shall we? What did you hear?"

Hikaru was not afraid of this small man, quite the opposite, but he didn't know him or what he was capable of. And with those last few words, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Nothing important," he said before stopping short. "Unless there was something important in your phone call that someone else shouldn't know about?"

Fielding scoffed. "Business calls are private. I wouldn't expect a rat like yourself to know."

The gloves had come off.

"I might be a rat, but at least I'm no murderer."

Hikaru was playing with fire without knowing how close he was to being burnt. Fielding looked startled before his face melted back into cold fury. He stayed silent.

"Let's see what the police has to say about this," said Hikaru. "Better yet, your daughter."

He edged away slowly, keeping his eyes on Fielding, and turned around to walk briskly down the hall. The heat of Fielding's stare burned into his back. He heard a door close in the distance but kept walking until out of sight before he broke into a run down the stairs.

* * *

Yumiko bawled in the middle of the park, thick tears rolling down her cheeks. She stomped her feet several times before tugging on Haruhi's blouse.

"I think she's hungry," she said. "I guess it's time to go—"

"I'll take her home. You two sit and chat, catch up! I'm sure you've got lots to talk about," said Ryoji. Haruhi glared at her father as he took the crying toddler in his arms and hummed a lullaby as he walked away. She sighed and massaged her head.

"He can be very forceful sometimes," she muttered.

Kyouya chuckled softly as he took off his glasses to wipe them on his shirt.

"But what does this even mean?" she continued. "If Fielding bought a small part of the Suoh company? And this company is under… Tamaki's name?"

Kyouya shrugged. "Technology isn't what the Suoh's are known for, so perhaps their small venture failed before it could start. It's likely to have been a part of the business his father put in his name to start him off. Maybe they just didn't take his name from it after he… he was gone." Though it still seemed odd Kyouya couldn't think of another solution to this. "Fielding's clearly dipping a toe in the market and going for a low risk angle."

Haruhi brushed a hand through her hair, which had grown much longer. It hit her shoulders with a shine in the russet brown. It made her seem much older. More like her mother.

"I should probably go. We've caught up enough, right?" she said, mocking her father's tone.

"I can walk you back," suggested Kyouya.

For once, she didn't resist.

They walked through busy streets in the centre of town that were awash with the golden glow of the late afternoon sun. Restaurants were beginning to open up, cafes taking their final orders. Small groups of families and couples seemed to swarm wherever the eye could see. He wondered when he could ask Haruhi to dinner, or even just for an ice cream.

"Kyouya, are you listening?"

"Hm, what?" He had disappeared into his own thoughts.

Haruhi stared up at him and shook her head. "Ah, no. Don't you find all this weird? That we're all being gathered up again, after being apart for so long?"

"It's not a big deal. We're all connected by our past, not to mention our families often do business with each other. Of course, not yours," he added, to which she rolled her eyes on cue.

"I know, but it feels odd. Something's off."

"Is this your lawyer sense tingling?" he joked.

They walked through a small square with a fountain the middle. Its flowing water glinted in the light.

She stopped walking and turned towards him. "Before he died, Tamaki wanted to tell me something. I had to leave early that day for a dentist appointment, but he said it was important. Sometimes I wonder what he wanted to say—"

Kyouya shook his head. "He always had something urgent to say and believe me, most of the time it was as inane as whether or not he should dye his hair."

Haruhi stared at the fountain behind him.

"Do you miss him?" she asked quietly.

Kyouya hesitated. He couldn't bring himself to think about it, let alone put it into words. That the one person who brought him from dark to light had disappeared into an abyss, never to return? In the days when they thought life was limitless, never did he think that the sun would be extinguished.

_And then, of course, there was the snake._

"More than—"

Haruhi's phone blared out into the quiet afternoon. She scrabbled for it in her bag.

"Kaoru? Wait, slow down, what did you just say?"

She looked at Kyouya, taking her ear away from the phone. "Have you heard from Hikaru today?"

Kyouya shook his head. "Why would I even be in contact with that—"

"No, we haven't. If you saw him this morning, couldn't he have just gone for a walk somewhere? Wait, hold on…" She put the phone on speaker. Both she and Kyouya leaned in.

"—four missed calls from an unknown number and left a message on my phone but it was cut short. Haruhi, this isn't like him, I know something's wrong. I tried calling his phone but he doesn't pick up."

Kyouya looked at her, a worried expression filling her face.

The phone went silent before Kaoru began to sob. "Haruhi, I think Hikaru's gone missing."


	9. Chapter 24

Electric blue washed over the walls of the Hitachiin residence. The temperature had dropped several degrees. Kaoru stubbed a cigarette at the bottom of his shoe before a warm hand gently squeezed his shoulder. Miyo stood next to him wrapped in a thick scarf. The night's chill covered them like an iced blanket. Her usually lovely face fell in blue shadows as the police sirens flashed incessantly.

"We'll find him," she said.

Her words were laced with an impossible certainty. He wanted to reach out and hold on to it, but words weren't tangible, so he gripped her hand instead.

"Mr Hitachiin?" asked a junior officer who cleared his throat. "My Captain would like to speak to you."

"Why, what have you found?" said Kaoru, his throat scratchy from smoke and tears.

"It's not that—"

"Then what could possibly be so important that your Captain needs to speak to me?" He glared at the officer.

"He would like to speak to you," repeated the officer as he handed a phone to Kaoru.

The warmth of Miyo's touch disappeared as she slipped away. Kaoru snatched the phone and barked into the receiver. "This is Kaoru Hitachiin here. Who am I speaking to?"

"Captain Haninozuka," said a calm, assured voice. "I am overseeing this investigation. I can only offer my apologies that I could not be at the scene tonight. Be assured that my best men are on the case, Kaoru." He said his name so softly. A breeze of familiarity washed over Kaoru.

"H-Hani-senpai?" It was as if they were back in the Third Music Room and Kaoru was watching the short senior drool over cake. "_You're _the Captain?"

"We're going to find him. This didn't just happen out of the blue."

"What do you mean?" said Kaoru as he leant against the wall. Several officers milled about the grounds, talking to staff and the Fieldings. Miyo had joined her mother who looked paler than normal. Ian Fielding consoled her with a handkerchief before his eyes locked onto Kaoru's.

"We're investigating a chain of events. Hikaru's disappearance is not an isolated incident."

"What do you mean," repeated Kaoru. "Hani, just cut the formalities."

"I can't say more than that," said the Captain, the calm in his voice a frustrating constant. "Just… keep yourself safe, Kaoru."

Kaoru gripped the phone, not because he was worried he would drop it, but because he was trying to restrain himself from throwing it. He reached into his pocket for another cigarette.

Even as he held the white stick in between his fingers, he heard his brother's voice chide him for his bad habit. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his head and fiddled inside his jacket for the lighter.

"I would never have pegged you for a smoker."

Kaoru didn't turn, barely registered the speaker, and waved his free hand in the air dismissively.

"Miyo, I'm really not in the mood—"

"I'm flattered, Kaoru, but I'm not your fiancée."

Kyouya stood behind him. The junior officer from before was at his heels.

"I told you, sir, you're not allowed on the grounds. There is an ongoing investigation—"

"And I told you, Officer Enokido, you should know who I am by now," said Kyouya curtly.

Enokido frowned at this. The two had clearly met before, and Kaoru's interest would be piqued if it weren't for the pressing matter at hand. He held his hand up to Officer Enokido and waved him away. "It's alright, he's with me."

"Mr Hitachiin, that's not really for you to decide."

Kaoru threw the phone back at him. "Why don't you give your superior a call and find out if he's okay with it?"

Enokido frowned at them both before stalking off in a huff. Kaoru gestured at his old friend to follow them to the back of the estate, away from prying ears and the sharp gaze of his soon-to-be father-in-law.

"Where's Haruhi?" he asked. They sat on a bench in the rose garden beside a small fountain.

Kyouya checked his phone briefly before clicking it off. "She's gone to the station to see the Captain."

"About that—when did _he_ become police captain?" Kaoru stubbed his cigarette beneath his foot once more. He knew the groundskeeper hated him for that, but Kaoru paid his wage more than handsomely.

"Considering his family, it's not all that surprising. Now, what have they said about Hikaru?"

Kaoru's shoulders wilted. "Not a lot. They're still investigating the entire estate. I keep trying to call him…"

Even as he spoke, Kaoru pressed his brother's name in his phone. The screen lit up with his twin's grimace. A small smile appeared on Kaoru's face before dissolving away when there was no answer.

"What makes you think this is suspicious?" said Kyouya. "He could have just gone for a walk—"

"My brother doesn't just_ go for a walk_. He likes to be kept busy, to _do_ things not just… wander around."

Kyouya folded his arms and rested against the bench. "I'm just trying to offer a solution."

A sharp reply filled his mouth before Kaoru bit back. He put his head into hands and leaned forward, feeling the heat in his face rising into his head. No doubt he had a migraine to look forward to in the evening.

"I know. I'm sorry, I don't understand where he's gone—"

"Kaoru?"

The two men turned around. It was Miyo.

"They searched Hikaru's apartment; of course, Haruhi's father wasn't happy with the disruption—but they've not found anything significant."

Kaoru took a deep breath. He could see it in her face now. His handhold—her certainty—had melted away. The worry was etched on her eyes, tension held taut against her mouth.

"His phone was in his room. They found it when you rang."

* * *

Haruhi fought against her temper as she spoke to her father over the phone.

"Dad, I know it was a surprise, I'm sorry I didn't tell you they might search the apartment—well it all happened really quickly, didn't it?" She smiled at the Captain as he placed a polystyrene cup of coffee in front of her.

The Captain spoke to a few of his senior officers just beyond the open shutters of his office doors. He stepped back in and straightened his crisp shirt against his petite frame.

"Dad, I've got to go. I'll let you know if anything happens, alright? No, no, you'll be safe."

As she clicked the phone off, she massaged her temple with both hands.

"We're keeping a couple of officers posted just outside the apartment," the Captain reassured. He rolled up his sleeves as he sat down. "You should go home, too, Haruhi."

"No," she said far too quickly. She had been expecting this. "I'm already involved, way too involved if you ask me. You know as well as I do this has got to do with Kaoru's father-in-law."

"And what makes you say that?" The Captain placed his elbow on the desk and clasped his hands.

"I've got some statements on my tape recorder that he's said, directly to me. Not to mention how both Hikaru and Kaoru have spoken about him. The guy is a jerk." Her cheeks reddened at the last comment. It was becoming difficult to remove the personal from the professional, but Haruhi didn't want to let go.

The Captain's eyes softened for a moment as he considered her, almost back to that boyish chocolate brown. He rested his chin on his hands.

"You could get hurt."

"I don't care about that. I just don't want anyone else to get hurt."

"Well, I suppose I am doing things a little unorthodox lately…"

Haruhi noted he hadn't ruled out her theory and smiled. She sipped at her coffee. It was the cheap, bitter kind, straight from a machine. She grimaced momentarily, but the Captain caught her expression.

"Sorry, the main coffee machine isn't working. I… usually have it with some cake." He got up and put his jacket on. "Come on, let's go for a walk."

They ventured just outside the station. The evening crowd had dwindled on the streets in the sudden cold. It was strange that it felt like spring only a few hours ago, in that park with Kyouya. She recoiled at the thought and brought her attention forward.

"Hikaru's disappearance may be linked to Kyouya's ex-wife's death," said the Captain as they walked a few metres away from the front entrance. There were even fewer people around here. "I know the latter case has had its toll on you."

Haruhi shrugged. "It's work, you know, you don't get too attached with cases—"

"His daughter is living with you—"

"—_temporarily_."

"My point is, Haruhi, you're far too close to this." He nodded to the car parked on the opposite side of the street. A tall shadow got out and walked towards them. "I need you to go home and to keep your family close."

The shadow materialised into Takashi. He kept his hands hidden in the pockets of a thick jacket. Its collar flicked up to hide the underside of his chin.

"Takashi will take you back to the apartment." It was neither a question nor a suggestion. The Captain had given Haruhi a command, albeit in the gentlest of voices. Before she could say anything else, Hani took her cold hands in his. They were warm and soft. Haruhi wondered if she could hold on to them a little longer.

"You may not want anyone else getting hurt, but I don't want to see you hurt either. I trust my officers, but I won't even let any of them take you home at this stage. You're far too close to this case."

He hesitated a moment, as if to lean towards her, but held back and released her hands. Perhaps it was for a shared sense of professionalism that the Captain did not want to let acquaintances in places they didn't belong. Or maybe he really did care for Haruhi not getting hurt. Whatever it was, she didn't want to push it too far. Hani would have a lot on his plate now, and no doubt superiors to answer to.

She gave him a small smile. "I guess I have no choice."

Takashi nodded at the small Captain before walking back to the car. Haruhi followed suit, knowing the Captain's eyes followed her as they drove away.

* * *

Despite the thick black that settled into each corner of the sky, the estate was a hum of activity. The police questioned the entire Hitachiin staff, and all seemed horrified at what had happened.

Kyouya sat alone on the bench in the rose garden. He didn't want to get in the way, nor did he want to face the police again in light of the past few months. He watched as a couple of maids brushed on their coats and walked tightly together, possibly going home. A few seconds later, Ian Fielding exited from another door.

Kyouya thought their eyes had met, but he wasn't sure, as Fielding slinked away without much hurry. There was something about his calm demeanour this evening that chipped away at Kyouya's mind. Without much thought, Kyouya followed.

They left the estate through the main entrance, where most of the hubbub was concentrated. Kyouya kept to the shadows of the night but as Fielding got further away there was little place to hide. The gravel was hard to walk on without making any noise, but Fielding had stopped at the clearing just beyond the front gates.

"I know you're following me, Ootori."

Kyouya froze for a moment.

"It's alright. I won't bite." The two men stood level with each other and faced the Hitachiin residence. "A strange turn of events, don't you think?"

"A _turn_ of events? I'm not sure if you call the disappearance of a friend that," said Kyouya.

Fielding leered. "_Friend_. Yes, that's what you all call each other. Even that little lawyer that snuck her way over, _pretending_ to be engaged to Tweedledum."

Kyouya deciphered the strange nickname without much thought, but the statement prior to that made him pause.

"Oh yes!" continued Fielding. "It wasn't difficult to suss that out of the pair of them. I may not look it, but I can sense when romance is in the air, and there was less spark between the two of them than could light a matchstick."

Kyouya knew the two weren't engaged in reality, but somehow Fielding's words gave him some comfort. This was, of course, before he scolded himself. The man had testified against him in court.

"It's why I've accepted Miyo's engagement. Despite my protests, they really do love each other. I can't stand in the way of that."

"Why are you telling me all this?" interrupted Kyouya.

Fielding turned around to face him. "Because, despite everything that has happened in the last few months, I want you to know that I am a family man."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I'll do anything to protect my family."

The younger man smirked. "You may call yourself a family man, but your attention to your business leaves little to be desired."

Fielding's expression dropped. As he frowned a reddish hue touched his cheeks—either from the cold or otherwise. Kyouya gently swayed and hunched his shoulders with his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Your latest move with the Suoh Group—namely, branching out Accenture into the Japanese market—was your first error."

"I won't be taking business lessons from a child like you." Fielding's phone buzzed. He took it out and began typing erratically.

Kyouya looked towards the estate once more. "No one had bought that small company since its first bankruptcy a few years ago. After its chairman's death."

Fielding looked up from his phone, the rouge in his cheeks deepening. "This is nonsense."

"And why would they? It brought no promise, only the disappearing tagline of an old Japanese family's name. But _you_ were happy to buy it. Just after my ex-wife's death. The death which you happened to have been in the neighbourhood as a witness."

"I saw you," said Fielding through gritted teeth. "Coming out of her house. It was _you_—"

"My innocence is proven," said Kyouya. "Yours, however, is beginning to falter. What were you really doing, in a neighbourhood so far away from your daughter's fiancé's residence?"

"I have nothing to say to you," said Fielding. As he walked away he pushed into Kyouya's shoulder. "Your _friend_ was just as nosy as you. I wouldn't want you to end up like him."

"I would advise you not to make threats against me, Mr Fielding." Kyouya raised his voice slightly, but it caught the older man's attention. He seemed a man easy to intimidate, once the thin walls of bravado were torn down. "My family own an esteemed security service. Perhaps you've heard of it? It would be unwise to continue to speak to me in this way."

Before Fielding could retaliate, Kyouya pressed ahead. "You are a spineless man trying to get ahead in a world of business far beyond your capabilities. And in doing so, you have become mixed up with family business, arguably murkier than that of finance or technology."

"I don't—"

"I know you are not a murderer, Mr Fielding. I doubt you have the dexterity for that kind of activity. But your eagerness to enter into business with the Suoh Group was your biggest mistake, and now you're playing with fire in a room full of fuses. You should reconsider—"

Fielding thrust himself at Kyouya, grappling at the younger man's shoulders before he held him tightly against his own frame. At the base of Kyouya's neck, he felt something cold and hard.

"You should really reconsider your words," said Fielding in a low voice. "Like I told you. I'll do anything to protect my family."

* * *

"You know more than me, Takashi."

The two of them had been silent in the car ride home. Streetlight poured into the car every few seconds until they hit evening traffic. Haruhi had taken the blue envelope out of her bag and frowned at it before she caught Takashi's gaze momentarily slip towards it. "What aren't you telling me?"

He gripped the steering wheel. His lips were sealed even tighter, it seemed.

Haruhi frowned at him. "Hikaru's mysteriously vanished. This isn't a time to just stay quiet and hope the mess will clean itself up. You can't stay locked away in your greenhouse forever."

"I know you're trying to goad me into talking."

It was a cheap jab. She turned to face the window, hoping he didn't see the obvious on her face. The car turned into quieter streets.

"You have to trust Mitsukuni." Takashi gently purred the gas as they sped down an empty side road. "He won't take this case lightly."

"It's not just a case!" She couldn't hide it any longer. "These are our friends! First Kyouya, then Hikaru. Whoever it is even broke into my apartment! Who'll be next? You? Me, again?"

"This is why we didn't want you involved—"

"_We_?" she shot back. "So, you're both in on it? You're from neither a law enforcement nor legal background, Takashi. Why are you covering for him?"

A coarse silence settled between them, prickled with sadness. It was strange to shout at someone like Mori-senpai. She could never have imagined doing it in the years prior.

He remained silent. Haruhi hit the side of her seat in frustration but missed and caught the doorhandle. She swore as the pain blossomed in her wrist.

"It was not a case in the beginning. Just a hunch between two grieving friends." His words were so soft, so gentle, that even in the silence Haruhi wasn't sure she had heard them at all. "It did not start with Kyouya. It started with Tamaki."

The pain in her hand ceased to exist. In its place sat an ache in her heart, an ache that Haruhi had long forgotten and filed away in places she tried not to venture towards. Now it came back in full force. He stopped the car outside Hikaru's apartment.

"What do you mean 'it started with him'?" asked Haruhi. "I'm not leaving this car until you tell me."

Takashi clicked his seatbelt off and rubbed his neck.

"Do you remember what I told you, in my greenhouse? The Suoh family closed themselves off, instructed the police to close any investigation as well."

"Yes," said Haruhi. "You said it was as if the whole world had locked Tamaki up and thrown away the key."

One of the lights flickered inside the apartment a few windows away from Hikaru's. Takashi watched as it was switched off, then on again.

"Mitsukuni and I knew this was odd. But what could we do, two seniors at high school? So we waited. Built our own careers and kept an eye open. As you know, wealthy families in this city tend to do business with each other. It wasn't long till we caught wind of a flourishing Japanese company in France."

The light switched off. Takashi gripped the wheel once more.

"What does that have to do with—" but her words were drowned out.

A vehicle careened into theirs from behind, sending Haruhi across the dashboard. Saved by her seatbelt, she looked at Takashi. Blood trickled down his forehead. She shook his shoulder, but he didn't move from the steering wheel.

A dark figure approached the car and appeared at the window. All Haruhi remembered was the gun before darkness swallowed her whole.

* * *

**If you're still reading this, thank you so much! I'm determined to finish this fic within the next couple of chapters. Ten+ years is more than enough to write it, don't you think?**

**As always, please like, favourite, or leave a comment. Thanks for tuning in!**


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